


Do Not Go Gentle into the Night

by darkandstormyslash, Magpies_Treasury



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Character Death, Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, RP, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spanking, blackmail made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-12 06:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 104,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3346334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpies_Treasury/pseuds/Magpies_Treasury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Augustus Magnussen collects people. He runs a very successful pornography studio until Jim comes along and steals his Tiger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is an RP written by myself and Stormy
> 
> The prompt was Magnussen runs a porn studio and he blackmails all of his actors into working for him. Everything is going well until he brings in the new boy, Jim. 
> 
> I wrote for Jim  
> Stormy wrote for Sebastian, Mycroft, John and her OCs  
> We shared Sherlock and Mycroft
> 
> It was a bit impossible to tag everything but I think I covered trigger warnings, if you see anything else do let me know and I'll add it in. From what I have tagged it is pretty clear that this is a darker fic. That doesn't mean there's no hope. Enjoy.

Sebastian had quit smoking when he'd joined the army, figuring that it wasn't worth destroying his own staying power just for the sweet little flicker of nicotine. Once they'd kicked him out, he'd started up again, and now the only affect was it annoyed John Watson, who had to kiss him afterwards. He grinned as John scowled at him from inside the studio, then flicked out the lit cigarette and came inside when John waved a sheaf of papers in his direction, "Script, and Mags is running late, he's bringing in the new boy." 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that, looking curiously at the door, waiting. He was dressed for the shot already, combat boots desert-rat trousers and a white vest. "Student?" He asked, snorting as John gave a slightly disgusted look, "Oh c'mon, they pay well. Twinks get the most hits, we both know that." 

Jim sat in the parked car with Magnusson, his chin up defiantly and his hands fisted in his pockets. God this whole situation left him angry enough to kill something. Of course, that was what got him into this trouble in the first place. “Anything I should know before hand?” As much as he hated this it would be better knowing what he was going in to. As it was Jim knew very little about what he was going to be doing. 

Magnusson gave him a faint smile, reaching across and very deliberately placing a hand on Jim's thigh, squeezing it. "Yes. I keep my productions safe and consensual, however the way you'll be treated by the men in there might depend on your attitude. I'm not going to stop them if the filming’s good. Today, you'll watch, learn and be given a script.  
Tomorrow you come in, clean yourself out, and then start filming." Another smile, another squeeze, and then Magnusson got out of the car, heading inside the studio and not bothering to see if Jim was following. 

A snarl broke out as Magnusson left the car but Jim covered it with a blank expression. He couldn’t stand being spoken to that way but it was probably the least of the indignities he would suffer during this process. He got out of the car and followed behind, letting his tension go and leaving a blank slate behind. No one could touch him unless he allowed it, and he had no intention of letting anyone here get close to his personhood. His body was just a thing that he used, it didn’t matter. As they entered the studio Jim shook off the thoughts and stared at everything through hooded eyes, analyzing and trying to get a feel for what was going on.

Sebastian and John both half-consciously snapped to attention as Magnussen entered the studio, Sebastian's eyes flickering to the student behind him and raising an eyebrow. The boy looked young, almost too young, which was probably the exact reason he'd been picked up. John cleared his throat and elbowed Sebastian in the ribs murmuring, "Stop ogling the new one…" 

Magnussen gave them both a fleeting and dismissive look before heading over to the head camera-man. "In position, Moran you've been smoking. Don't. Clear the set; let’s see what we have so far." Sebastian picked up a small bowl of water and tipped it over his head, shaking his hair out and then getting into position while John mumbled quickly through his script one final time. The set, as it was, consisted of not much more than a dilapidated truck on a small heap of sand. Sebastian hauled up the front of the truck then nodded at the camera man, who started rolling as the well-worn clichéd dialogue slid from John's lips. 

Jim watched on, unimpressed, as the actors worked. He stood leaning against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “What is it that I’m supposed to be watching and learning, exactly? How to salvage a shite script?” 

Magnussen looked down at him and ruffled his hair. "You really think our audience watches this for the script? No - they watch it to see a big muscular man in a soldier's uniform getting fucked." He nodded towards the set, to where John had already managed to divulge Seb of most of his clothing, the lights winking off his major's uniform and medals. "They watch it because their lives are meaningless and a quick wank in the dark makes them forget that for the few minutes before they crawl back into the marriage bed. That man is the one that will be fucking you tomorrow." He nodded at Sebastian, as he was bent over the truck, unconvincingly flushing and giving a few moans, while John kicked his legs apart to the accompaniment of "That's an /order/ soldier."

Jim made himself watch despite how deeply uncomfortable he was, if he was going to be participating tomorrow he’d need to get a thick skin and fast. If Magnussen’s casual touches could leave him feeling this unbalanced he didn’t like to imagine how he’d be feeling later. “I wonder what that says about the people who produce it and pander to the pathetic sods.” Jim quipped back. He knew he should probably have a better attitude but that wasn’t easy to do while watching the two men fucking against a truck and knowing he’d be in a similar position tomorrow. Jim zeroed in on the taller of the two men, the one bent over the truck. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think about him. There wasn’t anything he could deduce about him as he was currently playing a role and in costume. Jim supposed he was handsome enough, if you liked built idiots and stubble burn. “He doesn’t look like he could fuck his way out of a paper bag.” 

"It says that they have seen a marketplace that needs filling." Magnussen responded calmly "And you are an asset to fill that marketplace. But you are also a rude little boy - Yanos, bring the surfer script." He patted Jim's head again as one of the technicians came over carrying the papers. "A surfer boy walks along a shore, he finds a beach-house, he breaks in. When the owner returns he is punished and fucked. A standard story. I'm sure you've heard it many times. Now it is your story." He watched as John pulled on a condom and then held up a hand. Both men paused. "Belt him first, and tell him to stop smoking. I'll be in the office." He stalked out, leaving Jim behind as Sebastian gripped the top of the car and the camera started rolling again. 

Jim stood with the script in his hand, unmoving for a long time, trying to get himself under control. There was a couch in the corner and Jim laid down across it. He alternated between watching the actors and reading through his script. Feelings of resentment boiled up until it was difficult to focus on either of those things. Thankfully the scene seemed just about finished. 

John slid his belt smoothly through the straps and flicked it in Seb's direction - now Magnussen had gone the studio seemed to relax a little, and the belting mostly consisted of snaps of the leather and stinging marks that showed up red just for long enough to look good on camera. Once the action was all finished, and a few parts repeated to the camera-man's satisfaction, the two broke apart, John heading for the showers while Sebastian pulled his trousers up and sauntered over, leaning against the wall next to the couch. "You the newbie? Careful on the couch you might stick to it." 

Jim wrinkled his nose and stood quickly, brushing off the front of his trousers like they’d had dirt on them. “Is everything in this place tasteless?” 

"It's a porn studio not Claridges." Sebastian gave a grin, nodding at the script. "Which one did you get? Schoolboy, football team, next door neighbour? There's sod all different in dialogue but you get to wear a different silly costume with each one." he grinned as John came out of the shower in jeans and slacks, "He won't wear the army trousers a second longer than he has too. But there's bound to be more changes needed when Mags looks through them and I can't be arsed to change." 

Jim just scowled and handed his script over to the man, not interested in discussing the thing before he would have to. Jim was finding it difficult to look at him, out of embarrassment more than anything. He wasn’t a virgin of course but he’d never had sex with a stranger before and this first meeting was painfully awkward for Jim. “Fascinating.” He bit out sarcastically. 

"Surfer?" Sebastian just glanced at the title and raised his eyebrows dropping the script back onto the couch. "How did you manage to piss him off that much already? Well - I'll look forward to it." He headed back to the camera man, who was already doing some head-shots with John, while a light went on in the sound booth in the corner. In these productions, turnover was fast, with the camera and sound work often being done in the same day. 

Jim stomped over back to the man and grabbed his wrist assertively to get his attention. “What do you mean I pissed him off? How is this shite different from any of the other ones?” 

Seb scowled as the kid grabbed his wrist, twisting his hand around to free it while his other hand grabbed at the front of Jim's shirt. "Alright, fine. I'll do The Talk. You're a twink, right? And nobody gives a shit about watching twinks having mild mutual sex. Twinks are either soft and sweet and get other twinks to be giggly with; wide-eyed and innocent and get stretched open wide, or snarky little shits who get their arses beaten raw. Take a guess where you are. The surfer sketch has a spanking and a paddling and sex afterwards. It's a tough first time. Mags is breaking you in." 

“Fuck you,” it was quiet- whispered on a breath that felt like it’d been punched out of him. “No. No, I won’t. I don’t want to-” Jim tensed up like he’d been electrocuted, Magnussen’s final whispered threats echoing in his head. Jim could call a halt to this whenever he wanted. Magnussen kept a professional studio, after all. But as soon as he refused to do something, anything, his freedom would come to an end. Jim glanced about automatically, hoping that the producer hadn’t heard him. Hoped that the other actor wasn’t in on this, that he wouldn’t report him. He looked up at the solider, all of his anxiety mixing in his gut as he looked for a sign that he was about to be thrown under the bus. Jim clenched his teeth together, he felt he was going to be sick, thinking about what he’d have done to him tomorrow. Jim shook a bit as he imagined this large man striking him repeatedly, for an unknown amount of time while other people filmed his humiliation. The rage he nursed since Magnussen contacted him was overwhelmed with panic that he desperately tried to quash down. He gripped the hand twisted up in his shirt tightly. 

"Yeah, well nobody /wants/ to." Sebastian muttered, thinking he was going to need a pretty stiff drink tonight. "Except Mags. He wants to watch you break, watch you learn, watch you cry. Make use of that information however you damn well want." The kid was looking angry and terrified and Sebastian sighed, removing his hand from Jim's shirt and giving the hand gripping his a little pat. "Bear in mind it's not in his interests to get you scarred, or physically damaged. You're a cute one and he'll need you pretty and functioning. So there is that. Have fun learning your lines. I need a smoke." Letting go of Jim he tugged a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and headed out the building. 

“Wait.” Jim caught up the other man and watched him carefully. “I’m Richard.” Jim didn’t offer his hand to shake, he wasn’t feeling very charitable but the other man hadn’t been completely awful to him. 

"Seb." Sebastian mumbled in return. He was pretty sure that Richard wasn't the young man's real name, but he might just be naive enough to use his actual one. "And if that's not a stage name then get a damn stage name. You're too young to have this following you around for the rest of your life." 

Jim looked away and felt himself flush a bit. Something about Sebastian made him feel exposed, like he stripped away Jim’s anger and saw everything underneath it. “Richard Brook is the name I’m using here. I’m not an idiot.” Using a fake name wouldn’t save his reputation, people were bound to recognize his face. 

"Seb's my real name, because apparently I am." was the only reply Sebastian gave before heading out through the doors and lighting up.  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian spent the night in his tiny, shitty flat drinking himself stupid and watching action films, which meant he was in rather a delicate state the next morning. He came in wearing jeans, a hoodie with no shirt, and a pair of dark glasses, and even managed to make it in at a reasonable time. 

Magnussen gave him a blank look when he saw him, coming over and flicking at Sebastian's nipple through the hoodie, "I hope you can manage through today Sebastian. It's an /intense/ scene and I'm sure you'll enjoy the chance to top for once. Unless you screw it up. Then I might start thinking you're better underneath." 

Flick, flick, flick, until Sebastian scowled and looked away. "Yeah boss, don't worry. I'll get him crying." 

Jim came in late and didn’t give a fuck. He had been up half the night and hadn’t been able to fall asleep until he’d taken medication. He’d had too much coffee this morning and right now he felt on edge and strung out. His anger had evolved from hot flames to lava that burned hot and rolled in his stomach, blistering his insides. He’d make sure that if he was going to be forced into this that he made the process as painful as possible for everyone else. He walked into the studio and looked around, not knowing what to do so he stood by the door and waited for someone to notice him. 

Sebastian had already cleaned and changed, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and standing next to a hut that consisted of three walls and a fake-looking bamboo roof, located on the same patch of sand the truck had been before. There were even a few splashes of oil still present. He raised his eyes at Jim as he arrived and Magnussen came over, patting Jim's hair again, "You're late. Don't be. Go into the bathrooms, wash and enema. Costume is waiting for you on the hook. Be quick." 

Jim bit back a nasty comment and just breezed past Magnussen, heading for the bathrooms. He took his time getting ready and eventually came out in his costume with a robe drawn tight around himself, glaring at anyone who dared to look in his direction. “Is everything to your satisfaction, /sir?/” Jim sneered to Magnussen. “Or would you like to bend me over and check for yourself?” They hadn’t even gotten started and Jim was already bristling just from the humiliation of preparing himself to get fucked by a stranger on camera. He could have kept his head down and made it as easy as possible on himself but that felt too much like giving in. And whatever Jim was, he wasn’t one to turn the other cheek when he’d been insulted. 

Sebastian closed his eyes and gave a tiny groan as he saw Jim coming out with a robe on, fingers twitching and wishing he'd had a smoke before starting. He'd been waiting long enough for the stupid little brat to turn up and now it seemed that Jim was determined to cause trouble. Magnussen stepped forwards, tugging at the robe until it fell open and simply replied, "Yes. Yes I would like to check. It is your first day and you've cause enough delays without causing another through being unprepared." 

Jim stilled and barely kept himself from recoiling. He had meant it sarcastically of course but fuck all he could do about it now. Digging his fingers into Magnussen’s eyes was certainly holding appeal. Still, he turned around and slid the shorts down to his thighs. His face was blank and he kept his hands occupied with his shorts so he wouldn’t be tempted to slap Magnussen’s hands away. “Have at it then.” 

Magnussen stepped forwards, cool hands placed on either side of Jim's arse, digging in a little as they separated the curves, "Hmm..." he sounded detached, clinical, opening Jim up for the whole studio to see. He tapped a finger twice against Jim’s entrance then straightened up. "Good enough. Get dressed, get in position. Moran, out of shot. I hope you've learnt your lines." 

Jim tugged the shorts back up furiously and he shucked off the robe and dropped it on the floor. He wondered why they even bothered to put him in the shorts at all, they were torn to bits and as it was you could practically see his ass peeking out the bottoms. “Yeah, I’ve got it.” Jim walked on the set, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of sand between his toes and the smell of oil. 

Sebastian realised he'd been holding his breath a little and let it out, walking away from the hut and grabbing his copy of the script, feeling his heart hammering. He wasn't sure who he felt more nervous for, himself or Jim, but he hadn't spent as much time looking at the script the night before as he'd have liked. The camera-man rolled his eyes, muttered something uncomplimentary and then nodded at Jim, "OK kid, watch the lights, go for it." 

Jim stood there, his expression totally blank as he recited his lines. “Oh man, looks like there’s a storm coming. Lucky I could find shelter. Huh. It looks abandoned. I sure hope this is okay. I’ll just bunk here for the night.” Jim sat down on the floor, his back against one of the fake walls as he stared to the side of the camera. 

The camera man looked at Magnussen with an eyebrow raised. Magnussen said nothing, just gave a faint smile and a little shrug and said, "I'll see the shots at the end of the day. Continue." Before giving Sebastian a glance and then heading into his study. 

Sebastian gave another groan, tugged his glasses off and then stumbled into the shot. Looking down at Jim he managed a passable growl, "Hey ... what are you doing in my place huh?"

Jim was probably supposed to be staring up at the man with big eyes and pleading for mercy. Instead he stood as tall as possible and glared at Sebastian like a piece of shit he found smeared across his shoe. “I was only looking for a place to spend the night, I don’t want any trouble.” 

It was hard to keep from grinning as Jim snapped back at him but between his hangover and what he was about to do to the boy Sebastian managed. He knew that neither of them would be allowed to leave until Mags had footage he was happy with, and it was up to Sebastian to make that footage. Jim being a bitch - he could work with that. He gave the boy a little slap round the face and the camera man raised an eye, not used to things getting physical quite so quickly, "Hey not so much lip, this is my house and you have no right to be here. Give me a reason not to haul your ass off to the police." 

Jim blinked in shock as he reached up and touched his face tentatively. It hadn’t even hurt very much but no one had cleared any of this with him beforehand. He knew about the paddling and everything but no one had said they were going to hit his face. His stomach dropped and he felt unease creep in. If they were already overdoing things this early on his first day then Jim really had no idea what they were capable of. “Fuck you.” Jim snarled, completely dropping character. “Like I give a rat’s arse, you’re just going to do whatever you want anyways.” 

"Yup!" Sebastian grinned, pretty sure now that this take would be consigned to the cutting bin. There were a few of the actors allowed to go off-script - Diago, who was here illegally and rumoured to be sucking Mags's cock, and Darren, who did whatever the hell he wanted and looked fucking terrifying doing it, but the rest of them stuck to the corny lines and stupid dialogue. Picking Jim up, he flung the boy over his shoulder, turning his ass, fully visible under the jean rips, to the camera and patted it, landing a few slaps, "And I'm gonna take it out on yer arse. Good luck sitting down tomorrow." 

Anxiety gripped him and he struggled, perfectly happy to be dropped if that meant he could be back on the ground where he belonged. “Put me down you stupid fuck!” Jim felt Sebastian’s hand come down on his ass and he stilled, reminded of what was going on- what was at stake. “Oh please don’t. Anything but that.” He went back to delivering his lines coolly, barely short of sarcastic. Just to be a shit Jim reached and gripped the hair on Sebastian’s neck, tugging sharply. Enough that it’d hurt but wouldn’t damage his scalp or pull the hair out. A reprimand and petty revenge more than anything. He was still hoping to be dropped. 

Sebastian laughed then. In a way this was easier, Jim being pissy about it, it certainly made him easier to deal with than if he'd been sobbing, or shaking, like some of the first time actors were. He gave a little hiss as Jim grabbed at his hair, slapping him again, "Sarcastic little bastard aren't you? Let’s see whether you're any better with a nice red arse." Sitting down on the chair, he wrestled Jim over his lap, making sure the cameras were facing his arse and face, "Not like I've got anything else on today, we can stay here as long as we need to." Most of his words were from the script, but Sebastian was pretty sure they'd be doing this again with hopefully a more tearful and penitent Jim once the first run through was over. 

Jim held back a snarl as he wrestled against Sebastian’s grip. He /accidentally/ dug his elbow into Sebastian’s crotch as he fought. “I’m sorry! Please let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Just let me go. I won’t do it again.” This was absolutely humiliating but Jim wasn’t as worried now that he wasn’t being manhandled quite as forcefully. It was easy to stay in the moment during this part because he didn’t feel a total loss of control. 

Sebastian gave a whine as he felt the elbow in his crotch, his heart plummeting as he watched Magnussen come out of the office, staring at them with an inscrutable expression. And now he was starting to feel angry, angry that Jim was getting him in trouble. Snarling, he tugged Jim's trousers down and gave his cock a grope, still not able to get the other properly still over his lap as he needed. "Oh you wait, you definitely won't be doing it again once I’ve finished with you." 

Jim froze as his shorts were tugged down to his thighs and he felt the other man take hold of his cock in a painful grip. God, /what/ were his lines? “Please don’t. I don’t want it.” Sebastian had changed subtly and Jim couldn’t tell exactly what caused it. He dug his fingers into Sebastian’s thigh in warning. 

Jim was sounding and looking pretty desperate now, and Sebastian was sure as all hell that he was practically committing assault at this point. He stroked Jim's back as he felt the fingers dig into him. "Well you're going to get it kid, so if I were you I'd get used to the idea..." Jim was pretty much in his lap now, just not over it, and Sebastian slapped down against the curves of his ass, ignoring the camera man signaling at him to get Jim's ass up higher so they could actually film it properly. "Now are you going to bend over my lap properly, or do we have to make a fuss about this?" he could feel Magnussen's eyes on them, but didn't dare look at the man’s expression. 

Jim started shaking with adrenaline, energy bursting from his body in shock waves. His mind was torn between screaming at him to rip the fucker’s hands off and the other voice telling him to obey and get it over with. Jim recognized that Sebastian wasn’t delivering a line and the tension grew as Jim sat frozen in indecision. “Make me.” He bit out. And then he slapped Sebastian’s face. His hands were shaking and he didn’t hit him hard but the crack sounded loudly in the silent room anyway. 

Magnussen raised an eyebrow. Sebastian stared at him, shocked for just a second before giving a big grin, "Right..." Standing up he unceremoniously threw Jim over the table, one hand holding him down in the small of his back and relying on the shorts still round his thighs to keep his legs at least marginally in place. Raising his hand he started, smacking down hard starting at the top of the curves and working his way right down to the top of the thigh, never letting the pressure up for a moment. "I'll ask you that again in a few minutes." he raised his voice over the sound of skin slapping skin, "So you have a think and see if you want to change your mind."

Panic burst like fireworks behind his eyes and he struggled against the hands pinning him. “Like hell.” Jim was hurting himself more by struggling against the table but he’d be damned if he was just going to sit there and take it. Jim grit his teeth against the pain as Sebastian’s hand came down repeatedly over his arse. “Is this supposed to scare me?” He grit out. Jim kicked out and caught Sebastian’s leg, even though his shorts limited his motion and therefor the force. 

Sebastian couldn't even look at either the camera-man or Mags, but there was no reason to, really, when he had such a gorgeous little mostly-naked body to look at. Each struggle and buck made Jim's bum slide upwards, catching the lights, and it almost became a game, seeing how many different angles he could paint with red hand-prints. "Nope, this is supposed to warm you up, get you ready for the big guns." He smirked, stopping for a moment to give Jim's bottom a gentle stroke and pet. "Feel like co-operating yet?" 

Jim took a minute to just get his breath back and think. He was having a hard time keeping track of what exactly was going on, how much of this was real and what wasn’t. Jim grit his teeth at the reminder that they weren’t even part way through, and the stuff they /had/ done was shit. An intense feeling of hopelessness washed over him and Jim sagged against the table. He hadn’t been beaten into submission, he could go on for a lot longer. But so could they and struggling was just a waste of time and effort. “Fine, do whatever you want. Like I give a fuck.” Jim mumbled, closing his eyes against the bright lights and trying to block everything out. He let his body go limp and he let his mind drift off. Jim wouldn’t co-operate, nothing could make him do that. But struggling was pointless and it was easier to just let himself be used and go home. 

Sebastian found himself slightly disappointed as Jim slumped over the table, and panicked slightly. There was no way that paddling a broken and helpless kid was going to be anything other than brutal and not at all hot - and he'd be required to stay hard throughout. And then to have to fuck what was left of Jim. He gritted his teeth and looked up at Magnussen, who frowned a little and signaled the camera man to stop. "Time. Sebastian - have a cigarette." Sebastian stared at him, annoyed, and then stomped out, while Magnussen made his way over to Jim, patting his sore bottom, "You are a little firebrand. It works." 

Jim didn’t reply, he just turned around and pulled up his shorts. He was so fucking done with people touching him. “You’re a sick fuck. What, it’s not enough to manipulate people into bending over for you?” Jim hissed out. He wasn’t a smoker but he would have killed for a cigarette. Or a drink. Or a Valium really. 

"You asked to bend over. I let you." Magnussen watched him inscrutably, then patted him on the cheek. "Go outside and have a cigarette with Sebastian. When he comes back, he'll paddle you, you'll fight it. If you do it well enough, who knows. That might be all we need to film. Go." He gave Jim a pat on the bottom in the direction of the doors, making sure to pat on an area he seemed to remember Sebastian striking particularly hard. 

Jim would have much preferred to huddle up in the dressing room by himself but he did as he was told. He picked up the dressing gown off the floor with shaking hands and covered himself as he walked to the door. Sebastian looked rough but Jim didn’t blame him, he was sure he looked awful himself. It was fucking cold outside, even with the robe. Jim wasn’t about to ask Sebastian for anything, even a cigarette, he’d just gone outside like he’d been told. He leaned against a wall, mindful of his arse and stared about coolly. 

Sebastian looked down at him, not wanting to give him anything addictive at all, and pleased when Jim didn't ask for a smoke. He knew what Magnussen was doing, and knew that ten, maybe even five years ago he'd have refused the smoke break and thrown a cigarette in Mags's face. It seemed like a long time had passed since then. He remembered how  
Jim had looked as he'd suddenly slumped over the table and sighed, flicking ash off the end of the cigarette in the direction of Mags's car. "How's your arse, ready for the paddle? You know we're going to have to film the beginning again what with you pissing up your lines." 

“Doesn’t matter if it’s ready or not, does it?” Jim bit out. “I really couldn’t give a fuck about what we have to redo.” He really shouldn’t be taking it out on Sebastian but for all he knew the man was in on this whole scheme and it was very difficult to keep his temper in check. “Magnussen wants me to fight you when we go back in. I’m not going to give you anything, you are going to have to take every inch from me. I’m sure you can,” Jim breathed out casually. “Skinny fuck like me hasn’t got much chance.” Jim turned to look Sebastian dead in the eye, “I’ll hurt you if you give me the opportunity. He said if I fight hard enough then he won’t let you fuck me. I’d rather not get fucked today. I’ve already had enough. Doesn’t mean shit to anyone. But I’d like to have something left to scrape off the floor when this is done.”

Sebastian couldn't help a flicker of relief, knowing he wouldn't just have to beat a passive and broken young man, and he suddenly wondered just who it was Mags was playing here: him or the new kid. In all likelihood both. Stepping forward he stared down at Jim, "Just so you know kid, I spent three years in army training, three years fighting in Afghanistan then two years on an illegal bareknuckle ring, and all of it while doing amateur boxing..." he grinned and gave him a wink. "So good luck. Fight dirty, aim low, and if you even think about damaging my nuts I'll rip your arm off and spank you with that, alright?" Stubbing out the cigarette on the wall he pushed what was left of it back into the packet, patted Jim on the shoulder and headed back inside. 

If Sebastian’s little speech was supposed to be intimidating, it worked. Jim got roughed up by bullies and posh idiots at university. He wasn’t sure what hope he had against someone with Sebastian’s credentials but he was determined that if he was getting fucked he wouldn’t be helping it along at all. And he swore that Sebastian would be leaving in pain today too. Jim took a final breath of the fresh air before stepping back into the studio reluctantly. 

Magnussen was waiting for them both, looking a bit irritated and nodding curtly at the camera-man. "Richard - back over the table, trousers down, picking up where we left off. Moran, let go of him to pick up the paddle. If you can land ten strikes on his backside he's all yours. If he stops you... we work with the footage we have." He waited for them to get into position with a hint of impatience then nodded at the camera-man who was looking sulky and bored. Actors with freedom to move made the camera work a lot more difficult and when Jim had slumped he'd rather been hoping that things were almost done. "Fine. Now. Roll."

Jim sprang into action, moving to the other side of the table so that it sat between them. He almost tripped on his trousers so he adjusted them so his legs weren’t locked together so tightly. Jim didn’t have a hope of really overpowering Sebastian unless he somehow managed to knock him unconscious, and that was probably not what Magnussen meant. So Jim put distance between them to start, if he could avoid the man and his paddle then he would have a fighting chance. 

Sebastian just about had time to look up at Magnussen in shock before the camera started and he rearranged his face to film. Inwardly he was seething, but turned obediently to get the paddle, giving a growl as Jim moved. "You get back here you little shit..." he snapped, snapping the paddle menacingly against the table. 

Jim didn’t reply, just bared his teeth at Sebastian. The scrip was mostly just “please don’t” “I’m sorry” and “you’re hurting me.” He didn’t think that would be of much use here. The sound the paddle made against the table worked at unnerving him though, he’d never been hit with anything like that before and wasn’t sure it wouldn’t break something if he was hit hard enough. Jim would evade Sebastian for as long as possible, and then when the man caught him Jim would use their proximity to inflict as much damage as possible. He watched the man calculatingly, searching for weaknesses and trying to predict his movements. It was difficult not to be intimidated in the face of a large man with what was essentially a weapon while Jim was half naked and he was fully dressed still. The power imbalance was heavy but Jim was always good at turning odds in his favor. 

Watching the feral little growl he got in return made something stir in Sebastian for the first time since they'd started shooting. Although on paper he had the easy job, wielding the paddle safely and efficiently to land a precision strike against Jim's arse wasn’t going to be easy with him squirming around everywhere and Sebastian knew that Mags would take a very dim view if he accidently bruised or injured Jim in any other way. He could hardly just hit the boy with the paddle until he stayed still. He jerked slightly to the left and right a few times, just to watch Jim jump and then gave a growl and lunged around the table.

Jim ducked and rolled underneath the table, kicking sand up as he went. He had a tiny bit of protection underneath there and he used the opportunity to kick Sebastian’s knee out. 

Sebastian swore, reaching down under the table and grabbing Jim's ankle squeezing it tight as he practically hauled the boy out, trying to shift his body to get a decent shot at his arse, "Keep the fuck still... don't make me hurt you."

Jim grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it right in Sebastian’s face. He knew that blinding the other man might help his chances of not getting hit, or it would just insure he was hit somewhere dangerous. It was a risk he was willing to take. He struck Sebastian as hard as he could with the back of his hand and crawled under the table again, trying to make it to the other side. 

The sand in the face was a familiar old trick, just not one Sebastian had been expecting on a porn shoot. He stumbled backwards, wiping his eyes, as Jim scooted under the table. Then he crouched down, looking at Jim hiding like a cornered cat and shook his head. "You just made a big mistake punk..." 

The camera guestured helplessly at them, turning to Magnussen, "Cam I can't shoot them if he's under the fucking table." 

Mags just gave a little smile. "It's fine. Leave them." 

Jim tried to keep his breathing from getting too fast but it was difficult when his heart was thudding in his chest so loudly that he could hardly hear anything else. He felt cornered and that made him desperate. He made it out the other side and then flipped the table over onto its side, hoping that it would at least crush Sebastian’s toes or a hand. 

Pretty much everyone in the studio jumped as the table went over, and Sebastian jumped back, closing his eyes briefly as he felt a huge shot of adrenaline go through him. This was not the time to go into angry tiger mode. Growling, he grabbed the table and threw it practically off the set, the paddle spinning in his hand into more of a weapon grip and then lunged at Jim again, tackling him to the floor. 

Jim fought and shrieked in indignation as he was tackled to the floor and the air was knocked out of him. Sebastian had him pinned to the floor heavily and it was difficult to get a breath in. Jim snarled and arched up against the other man and kissed him hard. He felt Sebastian freeze above him and Jim used the moment to bite down hard on his lower lip and he ripped it open, blood dripped into his mouth and face but he didn’t care. He was /not/ getting fucked today. Jim wasn’t thinking about why he was fighting and he’d long forgotten about Magnussen and the camera crew. All he was aware of was the hulking figure pressing him to the ground and the knowledge that if he stopped fighting for a moment then the man would hurt him. 

Sebastian had dropped the paddle when he'd tackled Jim and he was about to pick it up again when suddenly Jim's lips were pressed against his and he froze in confusion. The next thing he knew there was a blinding flash of pain in his lower lip and he could feel the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Giving a deep growling moan he wrapped his arms around Jim's body on the floor and kissed him hard again, the taste of Jim and the blood in his mouth while his knee pressed up between Jim's legs, pressing against his crotch and rubbing gently. 

“Let go of me you fuck,” Jim started shaking, Sebastian wasn’t just pinning him to the floor but holding him tight against him and that didn’t leave Jim with any room to move. Then Sebastian was kissing him and Jim didn’t have enough /air./ He tried squirming away but when that proved fruitless and his brain shrieked at him for oxygen Jim reached his free arm out, looking for something, anything. His hand came in contact with the paddle and he grabbed the handle tightly before swinging it at Sebastian’s head. The angle was all wrong and he wasn’t able to hit him very hard with his arm half pinned but it was enough that Sebastian broke their kiss and Jim desperately sucked in air, his body screaming in relief. 

Sebastian groaned as the paddle connected with his head, coming back down to earth with a bump. For a moment he'd been swept away in something crazy, and frenzied hurried sexy kiss in a crazy world, and now suddenly he found himself pinning down a young terrified looking man who was currently assaulting him with a paddle. Rubbing his head he squatted back, giving Jim some space, and muttering "fuck..." A drink seemed like a good option right now, he was pretty sure he was still at least partially hung over. 

Jim held completely still, afraid that if he tried to get away Sebastian would hold him down again. As it was, Sebastian was straddling his lap and Jim didn’t have a hope of bucking him off. Blood dripped from the man’s lip and he thought Sebastian might need stitches. Good. He still had the paddle in his hand and he was ready to use it the moment it looked like Sebastian would grab him again. His breathing wasn’t quite so frantic but he was still panting in exertion and fear. 

Sebastian looked down at Jim dully, wondering what he was meant to do next, and jumping as he heard Magnussen giving a slow clap, his eyes cold and distant. "Good work. Look at that? You've got him disarmed and frozen. Not bad for a first day. Go shower and change, your next script will be waiting for you." He nodded at a random lackey, "Police break in, he'll be the second. Get Darren as the officer. Moran, my office." And with that he tapped the camera man on the head and then walked into the office, leaving Moran breathing harshly, still crouching over Jim.

Jim covered his face with his hands and took a deep shuddering breath, determined not to cry in front of all these people. He’d never felt anything like the pure relief that flooded him now and set him shaking. He imagined this is what people felt like who were pardoned while facing down a firing squad or a person who stepped into traffic and narrowly avoided being hit by a car. This felt less like shooting an adult film and more like being thrown into a coliseum. “Get off me please.” He muttered and dragged his hands across his face. All he wanted right now was to shower and wash the blood off his face and rinse it out of his mouth. He wanted to be in his own clothes alone in his dorm room and sitting at the window seat that looks out onto the quad. Jim didn’t feel victorious, he felt tired and sore. He wasn’t going to think about his next script and how he’d only put off the inevitable. He just couldn’t right now. 

Sebastian looked down at him, face blank, and then stood up, ignoring Jim and heading straight into Mags's office. 

Jim exhaled in relief as Sebastian climbed off of him and left. He stood up, letting that stupid fucking paddle fall to the floor, and Jim picked up the robe and marched to the showers with his back straight. He refused to show anymore weakness when the ordeal was over now. Jim ripped the shorts off and hissed as the material scrapped against the sensitive skin of his ass. He turned the water on very hot and sat on the floor while the water rushed over him, too tired to stand yet. 

The meeting was a good half hour long, and when it finished Sebastian stormed into the showers, jumping as he saw Jim, still sitting under the spray. After the meeting he'd just had he wasn't too inclined to be particularly sympathetic, so he stripped off and stood next to Jim, taking in the heat of the shower and rinsing his mouth out in the spray, spitting it down the drain.

Jim had zoned out completely and didn’t snap out of it until he felt the water stop pounding on his skin. He looked up and Sebastian was standing naked with his back to him, scrubbing himself off. Jim stood quickly, slipping on the tiles. “Sorry, I’ll—go.” Jim couldn’t look at the other man, who was obviously angry. 

"Stay as long as you want, although fuck knows why you'd want to." Sebastian managed bitterly. Sighing he turned to look at Jim, "Get some cream on your arse and don't get drunk tonight. You're an assistant police officer tomorrow, all you've got to do it look cute, take your clothes off and maybe give a hand job. Nothing like today." He grabbed at some shower gel, scrubbing it hard against his skin. "Enjoy the evening." 

“Are you—are you /angry/ with me?” Jim could not believe this was the case, what had he done to piss Moran off? He had no idea what made the other man cold to Jim but he wasn’t amused. What the fuck did he have to be angry about? 

"What?" Sebastian turned around to look at him, his bottom lip swollen and sore, "Fuck would I be angry at you for? Course not, you did pretty well. Heh. Sand in the eyes, where did a little twerp like you learn that?" Tilting his head back he let the water stream into his face, running hands through his hair before straightening up. "Just giving you some advice, that's all, although face it, I'm the last damn person who should be giving any." 

Jim snorted, “Where do you /think/ little twerps learn underhanded fighting?” Jim leaned back against the wall, not entirely comfortable with their nudity but he figured a safe low pressure environment was a good way to thicken his skin. “I don’t know, it seems like you’ve been doing this for a while. No reasons why your advice shouldn’t be valuable. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, Magnussen just told me I’d be making adult films and threw me on set.” Jim wrinkled his nose and scowled, “Why is it that I can’t drink tonight, exactly?” 

"Really? That's surprising, because to me you were acting like a god damn expert." Sebastian snorted, but in reality Jim had done pretty well for a novice - and had clearly impressed Magnussen given the way the man had responded. "They're going to splice today into a blooper reel - you know - Hot Young Twink Panics On First Time Spanking!" he spat the words out bitterly, scrubbing through his hair again. "Drinking will dull your mind, make you forget, and make you feel better. It'll become an automatic reaction: work, pain, feeling shite, getting ratarsed, and you'll do it every time. Not healthy." Turning the shower off Sebastian grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to get dressed then go get sloshed." 

Jim rolled his eyes at Sebastian’s sarcastic remarks about his performance. “Fantastic.” He started drying off and pulled jeans and his cardigan on over his head. “Right, I have work to get done before classes on Monday anyway. Drinking until I can’t see straight might actually fuck me up enough for a ‘B.’” Jim joked. 

"Yeah?" Sebastian looked at him sideways, "Look if you're so smart, why are you -" he bit off the end of the sentence. He knew why. Magnussen. It was a sort of unspoken rule between the actors - don't ask don't tell. That way there could be a slight pretence that this was enjoyable, that some of them were really getting their rocks off. He didn't need to hear that Jim had a dying old mother and this was the only way to pay for her nursing home. Whatever Mags was holding over Jim, it should remain a secret. "Tomorrow will be easier." He said finally, "You and Darren get to fuck me up. And learn your lines this time or I'll do far more than just chase you with a paddle." 

Jim flushed and looked away, glad that Sebastian hadn’t finished his question. He scowled at the floor when he heard about what they would be doing tomorrow. “What the fuck makes him think that I want to hurt anyone? Getting fucked up is one thing but I’m not interested in actively participating in any of this shit.” Jim felt anxiety climb again, despite the shower. 

Sebastian had to laugh at that, tugging his jeans on and turning to grin at Jim, "Aww... don't worry Richard, I'm sure somewhere out there is a porn-script where a hot little twink sits on a bench and scowls at people - and when you finally get to do that one you'll be happy. Darren'll do most of it, he loves that shit. And, fucked up bastard that I am, so do I. You just stroke my dick occasionally and for fucks sake do what Darren tells you. Mags thinks you're the shit at the moment, so don't ruin that.”

Jim scowled at the teasing but he felt better. “As long as you don’t mind, I guess it’s fine.” Sebastian’s description of Darren made Jim nervous but so long as he didn’t have to do any scenes where Darren focused on him, Jim was okay. “How does he think I’m the shit? What happened to ‘Twink panics on first time spanking?’” 

"Well that's all he can do with that tape isn't it? It wasn't exactly hot erotica, you hiding under a table while I twatted about with a paddle." Sebastian rolled his eyes and tugged his hoodie over his head. "Mags thinks it's hilarious you got the paddle off me. He was that emotional he almost smiled. Certainly made him hard enough. Maybe he's just fucking with you, who knows, but I thought we'd be re-doing that scene until your lines were perfect, your arse was raw, and your little tight hole had been well and truly fuck open. Instead he was happy to watch you run around naked flinging the furniture around." 

Jim didn’t really have a response to that except to flush. He didn’t believe Sebastian about Magnussen’s thinking well of him being a good thing. “That’s what drew him to me in the first place,” he said dully. “Said he liked watching me ‘rage against fate’ or some bullshit like that. Whatever the fuck that means. I think he just gets bored.” 

Sebastian grabbed his bag and shrugged, "It means he thinks he can make money off you, s'all he cares about. Sleep well, and don't forget your script." He bent down to give Jim a kiss on the top of the head as he left, swinging his holdall over his shoulder and whistling as he headed down the stairs. 

Jim blinked heavily, emotion rising up in response to something gentle in the face of all this shit going on in his life. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him kindly like that. Jim cleared his throat and shook his head as he left the bathroom and finally headed home. 

Sebastian headed straight out as soon as he'd dumped his bags at home, heading for the nearest club. He wasn't in a bar mood, he wanted heavy beats and loud music and clear alcohol that was easy to pour down his throat. The bouncer, waved him in with a "easy Moran - loose a fight?" Seb grinned licking his lower lip, "Nah ... overenthusiastic sex!" He heard the bouncers snort of disbelief and stumbled inside, wanting to empty his mind completely.


	2. Good Cop, Bad Cop

Jim stood outside with Sebastian while he had his final cigarette before they started filming. They were both already in costume and prepped and Jim felt fucking ridiculous. “Can I have a cigarette please? I think chemical intervention is the only way I’m going to be able to deal with Darren today.” 

"No." Sebastian said firmly, pleased that Jim had arrived on time, and thinking he looked unbearably cute in a police officer’s uniform slightly too big for him. "You don't want to get addicted to these, they're bloody expensive and they eat away at your work out ability." he sighed, "I quit in the army, five years clean. Made a difference to the number of pull ups I can get through." Magnussen tapped on the glass, giving them both a slightly annoyed look and Seb flicked the cigarette away. "You just look cute, let him take your clothes off, and give me a little fondle every now and again. It’ll help." 

“Yeah, alright. Fine.” Jim followed Sebastian in, feeling a bit… better about today. He wasn’t going to be hurt and he could handle Moran. It helped that he’d been given verbal permission to touch the other man, it made him feel less sleazy. “Mum.” Jim bit out, just to be obnoxious. People around them were buzzing about, trying to get last minute details set up for the shoot. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and gave Jim a light cuff on the back of the head, taking off the gauze over his arm to reveal a fake tattoo, now dry. He was wearing a white vest and a pair of ripped jeans, ripped in fairly similar places to Jim's tiny shorts the day before. The set director locked a pair of handcuffs on him and they headed over to the shoot. The sand had been inexpertly swept up and the set converted in what was probably meant to be a warehouse, with a table and chairs. Darren, in a police officer’s uniform came over and gave Jim a wide grin, "Alright kid? We keep... mostly to script, but me and Moran, we know what we're doing. Your job is to be all cute and turned on - and if I ask you to do something you do it, yeah? You'll need to be hard for the second half, we'll pump you full of something if you can't manage it by yourself." 

Jim ducked his head and nodded. Darren was friendly enough but Jim still didn’t like him for some reason. He seemed a bit /too/ enthusiastic about it, whereas Sebastian’s calm resignation was less threatening. “Alright.” 

Sebastian sprawled back in the chair, cuffed wrists in front of him, Magnussen nodded at the camera and it started rolling. The beginning of the script was all clichés, smirking and innuendo as Darren circled Sebastian's chair while Sebastian lounged in it, being insolent, and quietly praying that Jim would just keep his mouth shut and look the way he was meant to. Then Darren slapped his face and Sebastian spat back and the script started to go off-road a little. Darren stood back and gave Jim a grope, squeezing his ass, "Get your jacket off kid, don't want to mess up government property, and I'll show you how we really get a confession out." 

Jim stood there and tried to look interested in what was going on, which was difficult. He felt a brief flame of anger when he saw Darren slap Sebastian off script, although Jim had no idea why it had angered him. Perhaps just because it was unexpected. Jim made sure to widen his eyes and nod enthusiastically as he took off the jacket and hung it across the back of a chair. “Of course sir.” He didn’t like being touched but it was bearable and frankly, as long as things went the way they were expected Jim was okay with it. It was when the scene got out of control like yesterday that he got nervous. 

Sebastian leaned back on two of the chair legs, putting up two fingers and smirking. As Darren kicked the chair from underneath him he managed to hold his own weight for long enough for Darren to grab him and swing him forward over the table, swearing as he hit it. Darren held the police baton over the back of his neck and they hissed some more clichés at each other and then Darren hooked a hand in the back of Seb's trousers, winking at Jim. "Look at the kid, practically drooling over the big bad man. Go on... give him a kiss..." 

Jim looked to Sebastian, and relaxed a bit when he saw the humor in his eyes. He made an act over looking nervous and uncertain as he leaned down and pressed his mouth against Moran’s. Jim sucked Sebastian’s torn lower lip into his mouth and nibbled on it enough to give him a shock but not break the skin. “Like that?” He asked Darren. Most of Jim’s lines involved him asking for instruction and clarification. It was part of promoting Darren cop’s control over the scene and Jim’s own submissive traits. 

Darren nodded, and Sebastian moaned gently around Jim's teeth and then gave a little hiss as his jeans were pulled over the back of his arse. Darren gave a laugh, yanking Seb's head backwards by the hair, tugging his mouth away from Jim's and hissing a few more clichés. His other hand reached forward and ruffled Jim's hair before handing him his truncheon and nodding to the small bottle of lube which was always placed, inexplicably, in even the strangest of sets. "Go on, lube that up, let’s see if it fits." Sebastian gave a horse yell and bucked and struggled underneath him. 

Jim looked at the baton dubiously but did as he was told. He couldn’t imagine that it wouldn’t hurt and badly but presumably Sebastian agreed to this. Jim popped the cap on the lube before slathering a generous amount onto the night stick. He was starting to feel ill, hearing Sebastian yell out like that, even knowing that it was an act. Actually participating in hurting him like this was… different than he imagined. Using a crop or a toy on him would have come easier but shoving a night stick up someone’s arse crossed the line into sadism. Still, he just used as much lube as he could to make it as easy as possible for the other man and clamped down on his unease. “Here you go sir.” He handed the night stick back to Darren. 

Sebastian managed to shoot an anxious glance at Jim as he was given the order, but then dropped back into character pretty fast as Darren started pressing fingers inside him, laughing and shooting out insults as he did so. At the third finger Sebastian dropped his head down on the desk, breathing ragged, and Magnussen guestured at Darren, who yanked his head back up again to face the camera before giving Jim a wink, "Go on kid, get your top of, give the poor guy something to look at..." The lubed night-stick lay on the desk, glistening and threatening. 

Jim saw Sebastian’s anxiety and hoped that it was not because he was worried about the night stick. Thankfully it was discarded for now even though it still sat there menacingly. “Yes sir.” Jim started to undo his buttons to reveal his hairless chest. He tried to take his time, giving Sebastian a moment to breathe while he smirked and teased with the buttons. Jim untucked his shirt and shucked it off before folding it over the back of a chair on top of his jacket. “Do you like what you see?” He asked suggestively, internally cringing at the awful line. 

"Awww look at that, he's gone hard!" Darren scoffed, "Looks like he's a faggot after all." Seb snarled again, hissing back insults as Darren tugged his shirt off and slid the belt out menacingly from his trousers. "Alright kid, I heard you like going under tables, how about you slide under there and keep him happy while I... warm him up." The camera man muttered something uncomplimentary and moved the second camera down to catch the best angle of under the table. 

Jim flinched when he heard the slur, even if it wasn’t directed at him. He felt anxiety increase exponentially, but strangely he wasn’t very worried about himself or the situation. Jim was sure he’d be mocked mercilessly for it, but he was anxious for Sebastian. The idea was ludicrous. They weren’t friends, yesterday Jim hadn’t cared a bit about hurting the other man. But seeing him snarling and defensive as he was held down against the table upset the young man. It didn’t seem right. Like bear baiting or something. Torturing an animal when it was cornered and unable to fight back, all of that power held in check. Jim felt conflicted about what he should do, but realistically there weren’t many options available to him. It would be better for Sebastian if Jim just did what he was told and didn’t make any more trouble like he had yesterday. The young man approached apprehensively, sliding to his knees and ducking under the table. He touched Sebastian’s knee lightly and trailed his hand up and down his thigh a few times, before he tentatively wrapped his hand around the other man’s cock. 

Sebastian's leg twitched as he felt Jim's fingers against it, his cock was already achingly hard, and leaked a little precum as Jim touched it. The cameraman gestured furiously at Jim to move to catch more of the light, and in particular to make sure Seb's cock was visible and clear on camera. Above them the belt whistled down, and this was a very different beating to the one Watson had given the other day. Darren wasn't bothering to maximise the sound and show while minimising the pain, but instead was clearly having fun smacking the leather against skin, while Seb gave a pained groan. After three strokes Magnussen held his hand up and the two men paused. "Richard, strip. Darren, trousers round ankles, there is not enough skin. Moran, stick your arse out, I want it glowing before that stick goes inside. Richard - you are carried away by his hard on - stroke yourself, moan, strip. Alright, roll."

“Shit,” Jim whispered, frustration and humiliation coloring his cheeks. He tugged down his trousers and moaned unconvincingly as he took his limp cock in hand. Jim was fine with getting Sebastian off, fuck knows he deserved it if they were going to shove that stick up his arse, but he couldn’t think of many things less arousing than his current situation. He wasn’t even in the worst position, he could be the one bent over the table! But telling his cock “it could be worse” didn’t seem to be doing anything for him. 

Five more strokes, as Seb's groans turned to yelps and Magnussen held up a hand again. Coming over he crouched down staring at Jim behind his glasses, face expressionless. "You need to be hard. Nobody pays for porn of people soft. You are doing well today." Reaching forward he tapped the head of Jim's cock. "What do you need? What will help you? You can take time out to look at porn, you can do what you like with Sebastian. Or I can just keep thrashing him until you co-operate, hm? Or do you need help?" 

Jim seriously couldn’t believe that Magnussen was offering Sebastian out for time that wouldn’t be on camera. That served no purpose other than insuring Jim was aroused. Fuck’s sake. He felt crowded and defensive under the table with Magnussen crouching over him and touching him with Sebastian’s dick in his face. “Don’t care,” he hissed out. “Give me a pill or whatever.” 

Magnussen sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose on top of his glasses. "Fine. Your choice. Tomas!" It was said as an order and a man with a medical kit came over. Sebastian gave a little hiss from above the table and Magnussen straightened up, coming over and patting his backside, "More overlap, we need a pattern, something pretty for the camera's to pick up." 

The medic gave Jim a smirk, then pulled on a pair of gloves, taking out the needle. "OK, this won't be pleasant but it'll get you hard and keep you hard. Alright?" 

“Fine.” Jim bit out. He was angry about the situation but there was fuck all he could do about it. He didn’t think he’d ever been less aroused in his life, there was no way he’d be able to do what Magnussen wanted without chemical enhancement. The needle slipped in and Jim hissed out a breath and gripped a table leg tightly as he closed his eyes. “Hurts.” 

"Did you think it wouldn't?" The medical guy replied, unamused, injecting it in and then removing the needle. "Alright, five minutes then that'll last you a couple of hours. If it stays up more than seven hours get yourself to a doctor, the number's on the card on the noticeboard if you don't want to explain to your regular GP.” 

“As long as you did your fucking job and didn’t overdose then there shouldn’t be any problems.” Jim bit out, furiously. But the man had already left. Jim groaned and smacked his forehead against a table leg, trying to get his brain to focus. The drugs rushed through his system and left him dizzy. “Are you okay?” He asked Sebastian, quietly enough that no one would be able to pick up their conversation. 

Darren moved away, taking a break while the drug went through his system. Sebastian peeled himself off the table and knelt down with a groan, looking at Jim under the table, "You alright kid?" He grinned at the question, "Sore, stretched and about to be buggered with a large piece of wood. Never better. Seriously though, call the doctor if things go weird, I'm guessing you've never had to use this stuff before." 

Jim had to bite back a sneer, “I know to go to a doctor. Although maybe Magnussen would lose interest if I lost the ability to get an erection.” Jim rolled his eyes and sat back of his heels, feeling a bit ridiculous sitting under a table half naked. “’M fine. It’s easier when I’m not expected to do much, obviously. I’m sorry.” He said frankly. “He’s punishing you for yesterday, isn’t he? I didn’t know I’d get you in trouble.” 

"Not your fault." Sebastian shrugged, "You weren't to know he was a bastard, besides we've got an understanding Mags and me, I’ve been working for him for a while now." he shifted, not comfortable crouching but not about to sit down, and unable to stop himself eyeing up Jim's cock a little as it grew. "Nothing to be ashamed of, most of the lads need a bit of, uh, help to stay up for the time required. I'm just talented." Reaching forward, he gave Jim a pat on the shoulder and then straightened up again, bending over the table and rolling his hips to stick his ass out further as Darren came back, giving a laugh, "Alright Seb? Damn I'm looking forward to this bit..." 

“Oh fuck off,” Jim had stood to stretch his legs and overheard Darren. “You think you’re some big man just because you’re not the one bent over the table? Don’t kid yourself, it could just as easily be you. You’re just as much of a bitch, doing whatever you’re told like the rest of us.” Jim tilted his chin up and glared, “I don’t think you could handle taking that up your arse.” Jim was angry and sick of Darren being a bastard when he’d probably never bottomed a day in his life. 

Darren looked at Jim in shock and then started to laugh, coming over and slipping an arm around Jim's shoulders, "Oh God Sebastian, you've got a little admirer, fucking precious." He laughed again, reaching down to give Jim's now erect cock a good squeeze, "You really think I haven't taken that up me? I've done my time, same as the rest of us. One day it'll be you. Now get under the table and jerk off like a good boy while I give Sebby the thrashing that'll make him hard." He let go of Jim quickly as Magnussen came back over, picking up the belt and folding it in half, ready for the nod from the camera man. 

Jim took a breath and shook off his residual anger. His hand itched to claw at the man for touching him outside of a scene and without permission. Jim glared down at his cock, feeling irrationally betrayed. There was some dizziness but he wouldn’t be expected to do much moving around, it was probably fine. His dick was sore and that wasn’t fun but he knew the situation really could be worse. Jim crawled under the table and sat himself so that the camera and the lighting were right and had a view of both him and Sebastian. 

Magnussen nodded, still looking cold and expressionless and Darren started up again; it was clear from both the sound of each strike and Seb's response that he was striking even harder now. And despite it all, Seb's cock stayed hard and leaking in Jim's hands, while his legs scrambled for purchase on the floor, and his yelps turned into whines and desperate gasps. Finally, at a nod from CAM, Darren picked up the lubed nightstick. Jim might not have been able to see, but Sebastian's cock twitched hard and he gave out a gasp as it pressed against his entrance. 

Arousal built in Jim but it felt… wrong. Unnatural. Thin and pushy, like it could fall away if Jim thought about it hard enough. He tried not to. Jim moaned as he touched himself, and wanted to be sick. This was the worst feeling, taking something that was meant to be enjoyed and relaxing and instead he felt shame and disgust. It was impossible not to be aware of Magnussen and his dead eyes watching them. He tried to distract himself and wrapped his hand around Sebastian’s cock, jerking him off roughly. Part of him was curious to see this iron control Sebastian had bragged about earlier, see if he could push him past it. 

Seb gave a slightly sobbing moan as the nightstick stretched him to its widest point, his hands scrabbling against the wood of the table, feeling immeasurably grateful for the hot touch of Jim's hands against his cock, "Fuck..." he managed to gasp, whining as Darren twisted the stick, and hoping his next shoot would be with Watson again. Darren was still hissing insults above him, "Oh yeah, you little shit, how does it feel to be taking it? Let’s see how wide we have to stretch your ass before we get a confession out of you..." but he mostly tuned out. They were clichés, heard in most of the shots. He gave a grunt as Mags held up a hand to pause them again, dropping his head onto the wood a few times as the set director spritzed oil and water around the place to liven up the naked skin and gave Jim a thumbs up. 

“Okay?” Jim checked in with Sebastian. He literally couldn’t give a flying fuck if Darren teased him again, there was no reason he had to be an insensitive prick. He was used to checking in and dialoguing with sexual partners, that didn’t just go away because they were on set. 

Neither Seb nor Darren were quite sure who Jim was speaking to, and Sebastian was just trying to concentrate on surviving with his arse tensing and clenching around the nightstick embedded inside him. He looked up and caught a flash of CAM, looking vaguely amused, and gave a snarl, hissing as Darren landed a hand-slap on his arse, "Roll."  
Magnussen said again, and the nightstick was grabbed and twisted, his body shuddering into the table, and his dick twitching and leaking in Jim's hands. 

Jim clenched his teeth and picked up where he left off, hissing and moaning when he couldn’t sensor himself. He dug a fingernail into the slit of Sebastian’s cock. He knew Sebastian was a masochist but Jim hadn’t been given permission to hurt him so he wouldn’t do anything to damage him. After a bit he zoned out and continued mechanically, remembering to mix things up for Sebastian to try and distract him from any discomfort he was feeling. 

Sebastian gave a horse yelp as he felt the stinging edge of pain in his cock, his foot attempting to kick forward at Jim under the table, more for some contact with him than anything. It was maddening to have Darren's body all over him, CAM's eyes staring at him, when the person he really wanted to look at and touch was under a table doing exquisitely amazing and painful things to him. He gave a ragged gasp, moaning Richard's name gently and then wincing as Darren heard, laughed, and knocked a fist against his head.

Jim dodged the foot that kicked out under the table, almost smiling in surprise. He startled when he heard Sebastian say his name and arousal further clouded his mind. It bothered him slightly to hear Sebastian moaning a name that wasn’t really his. Jim scratched at Sebastian’s testicles but he was careful about it, he still remembered Sebastian’s threat from the day before. 

Darren tugged the night-stick away and Sebastian gave a relieved groan, before his cock was tugged away from Jim's hand and he was thrown face-up onto the table, Darren bending his legs up and smiling evilly, "Alright Richard, get out from under there - let's see if we can really make this guy sing..." Darren's cock was slapping against Seb's entrance, which looked raw and stretched, Sebastian's cuffed wrists pinned above his head as he arched and panted. 

Jim blinked hard and tried to focus with the chemicals slowing and dulling his brain. It felt like a heavy fog had settled and it was difficult for him to follow what was happening. But he did as he was told and got out from under the table. He winced when he saw the state of Sebastian’s arse. He couldn’t imagine what he would be made to do next and somehow it was more difficult to care with his mind shuttered away like this. “Alright boss.” He answered simply. 

Darren glared at him, irritated and snapped, "Kiss him then, go on." Before tugging a condom out of his pocket and ripping it open. A few more clichés down at Sebastian's gaping arse and tanned spread legs and then his cock was pushing in, while Sebastian gasped and looked back at Jim, mouthing his fake name, pupils blow and eyes dilated. 

He nodded and bent over so he could stare at Sebastian, their faces inches apart. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” It was delivered with a curious lilt, and it was off script but things were so dulled that Jim wasn’t thinking about that. The question was said quietly enough that the cameras probably hadn’t caught it. He stared at Sebastian’s expression as it twisted and gaped in pleasure, watching curiously. His eyes latched on to his mouth, the cut he’d left there. Jim traced it with a finger, “Does this hurt?” He lost himself in thought for a moment before he closed the distance between them and kissed the man inquisitively, the fog settling in heavier. 

Sebastian made a slightly strangled little noise, arching upwards as Jim spoke. The answer was complicated. He was turned on, but he was enjoying it the way he enjoyed getting horrendously drunk, with a desperate vicious helplessness that he might as well take as much out of the situation as he could get his hands on, even if later he'd feel sickened and shaking. And now this hot little thing was bending over him, finger sliding over the mark he'd made the day before. He didn't answer either of the questions, just closed his eyes and kissed back, hard and desperate as Darren thrust away on the other side of the table. 

Kissing a person while they were being fucked by someone else was a… new experience for Jim. It was difficult and there was a lot of uncomfortable teeth clashing together as Sebastian was repeatedly jolted across the table. He got the hang of it eventually but after a while he pulled away. “Greedy aren’t you?” Again it was an odd statement, like Jim was slightly surprised by the realization. Jim wrapped one of his hands across Sebastian’s throat lightly, a tease more than anything, barely cutting off any air. He went back to kissing Sebastian, running his tongue across Sebastian’s lower lip. 

Darren scowled, and CAM focused on Jim suddenly, motioning to the camera man to make sure he got him. Until that moment it had seemed like Jim might have to be cut from the final film - given he'd looked stilted, uncertain, and had just been giving an inferior hand-job under the table. Now though, he was being surprisingly sexy - albeit in a vague and slightly sinister way. Sebastian's eyes practically rolled back and he gasped out a "fuck" as Jim's hand wrapped around his throat, tipping his head back towards him, ignoring Darren completely. 

He watch Sebastian’s head trip back, showing throat. Jim tightened his grip a little bit and leaned down so that he could suck a spot on Sebastian’s neck since he’d given him access. Jim hummed a curious note in Sebastian’s ear. “What do you want?” 

Sebastian had long ago shut down much of his brain to just try and cope with the pain, after holding on through the belt and through the night-stick, and now being rewarded with this awesome little piece. He could see that Jim was distant, that he was taken over by the drug and his own disgust, but all he managed was a gasping moan of "W-want you ... f-fuuuuck..." before he came hard all over himself. 

Darren made a disgusted noise and CAM gave a small tut, shaking his head and snapping out, "Break. Moran, clean yourself up, Richard, you're finished for the day I'll email a new script during the week. Darren and Moran, re-shoot once you've recovered, and get the script-writer to call me /now/.” With that he stalked into his office. Darren pulled out, tugged the condom off and gave Seb a final hard slap on the arse before heading to the washroom leaving Sebastian shivering on the table. 

Jim glared at Darren harshly, he was getting really fucking sick of that guy. He walked off set and grabbed the robe he brought out and a towel and tossed them both to Sebastian who was still shivering on the table. “You okay?” Sebastian certainly didn’t /look/ okay, and Jim was bothered that Sebastian would have to reshoot the scene. 

Sebastian pushed himself up and flicked a V-sign at the camera man, who was sniggering, tugging the robe around himself. After a few deep breaths he managed to lift his head and give Jim a sheepish grin, waiting until Darren came out of the washroom before pushing himself off the table and limping over, "Yeah, fuck that was ... that was a bit different. You coming?" He rather wanted to clean up with Jim, and in particular to take Jim away from Darren and CAM and the rest of the crew so they could both calm down a bit. 

Jim nodded slowly. He felt… open. Or—suggestible was probably a closer word. It was easier to just agree and follow directions when his brain didn’t want to work hard enough to come up with its own ideas. Besides, a shower sounded nice. He felt a shudder break through the haze and crawl down his neck. “Okay.” He followed behind Sebastian, leaving his costume behind for someone else to pick up.  
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian turned the shower onto hot as soon as they got in, pushing his robe off and taking hold of Jim's chin, looking at both his eyes before letting go. Jim was still hard and would be for a while, and Sebastian gently led him under the water for a minute, "You alright kid? You look a bit ... spaced." He wouldn't have put it passed Mags to put something else into the shot Jim had been given, "Sit down, here, on the bench. A-ah..." He gave an involuntary hiss as the water hit the red lines criss-cross his arse, "Get your head together a bit or you'll be floating out of here." 

“You’re the one that needs to get your head together if you think I’m—ah. Fuck.” Jim couldn’t even think of the end of his insult and let it trail off. He just watched Sebastian move instead, noticing where he hurt and what areas he favored. “I fucked it up, didn’t I—the thing. Sorry. You have to do it again?” 

"What, no!" Sebastian gave a laugh, although a slightly shaky one. "You didn't fuck anything up, I'm the one who came everywhere like a horny teenager. CAM's gonna write you a new script, you could see him watching. I mean he's having fun fucking around with you at the moment, but he does also want to make some money out of you. They'll want to redo him fucking me, without you in the scene. I don’t have to do it all again, thank fuck." 

Jim sighed in relief, sitting on the bench like he’d been told. “Well at least someone’s having a good time,” he referenced Magnussen. The hot water was all at once clearing his head and somehow making it worse. The sensation of hot water helped him think but the relaxing effect it had made it easier to slip into the fog. Jim was very annoyed to see that he was still hard and he glared at his erection. “Fuck’s sake.” He muttered. 

Sebastian couldn't help a smile at Jim's predicament. Coming over he knelt down in front of him, cocking his head at the erect cock. "Do you want me to ...?" He guestured at it. An orgasm wouldn't make it come down completely, but it would help relieve the pressure and would get Seb back in the mood as well. On the other hand, after all that had gone down, he could see why Jim wouldn't be keen. 

“Okay,” Jim muttered automatically. If he’d been thinking straight he would have said no on principle, but the fact was he /couldn’t/ think straight with the drugs dulling his mind. Right now he didn’t care about any future embarrassments or setting a bad precedent, he just wanted—something. Contact. Something that was /real/, that didn’t come with strings and hidden agendas. “If you’re sure.” 

"Course I am, you were the only thing making that shoot bearable..." there was a small piece of conscience telling Sebastian that this wasn't the most perfectly consenting of situations, but he'd long ago given up finding perfect, and was more than happy to settle for sort-of. Kneeling down he gently stroked Jim's cock, and then slid his lips around it, closing his eyes as his head bobbed up and down, tasting Jim and feeling him, hard and drugged in his mouth. 

Jim felt warmed at Sebastian’s words, a little smile making its way onto his face. Then Sebastian’s mouth was on him and he bit his lip hard to keep down a surprised shout. He was incredibly sensitive right now, the sensation was almost too much like this. “Shit! Shit.” Jim heart rate sped up and he reached out his hands to touch Sebastian’s hair, watching water droplets dangle from his locks. 

Sebastian slowed down his movements as Jim swore, although he knew that pretty much anything done on a dick this hard and injected would be difficult to take. Sliding his mouth off he replaced it with his hand, blowing gently on the tip as his fist worked up and down in strong slow motions, jerking Jim as the hands tangled in his hair. When he thought Jim was ready, he took it up in his mouth again, sucking gently. 

Jim whined at the painful sensitivity of Sebastian’s hands on him and tried to keep himself from squirming too much. He adjusted one leg so that the back of his knee went over Sebastian’s shoulder, giving him better access. Jim hissed when he felt Sebastian’s mouth on him again but the pressure wasn’t as strong this time. Jim tugged the man’s hair encouragingly as he moaned and tried not to arch up into the wet heat of his mouth. 

Jim was practically crawling over him now, which Sebastian took as encouragement. While he didn't speed up, he continued sucking, sliding his mouth back and forth and pleased for the little tingling tugs at his hair, not to mention the closeness of the smooth young skin and Jim's voice and body. He'd fallen embarrassingly hard, which he knew would become a problem down the line, but given he still had another hard fuck from Darren to come, with an already sore arse, he figured he deserved a bit of time out.

Jim’s breaths were coming in short staccato bursts, he felt like his whole body was burning. He was close to tears he was so painfully turned on. Of course he was aroused and it felt unbearably good but there was also something wrong with it, like the pleasure was only in his body and not connected to his mind. Jim moaned loudly and ran his hand through Sebastian’s hair, soothing the scalp he’d tugged on. “Seb, I’m going to—fuck!” Jim arched his back against the wall but managed to hold back his orgasm for another minute. 

"S'okay ...cum ..." Seb murmured around Jim's cock. He knew that CAM got all the new boys checked out for illness, and while it was more than possible that Jim had fucked around during the last two days, or indeed that Seb had just caught something from Darren, he didn't particularly care. He wanted to taste Jim and that was all that mattered, tugging at his cock he sucked hard, bobbing his mouth right down over the sensitive skin. 

Jim curled his fingers through Sebastian’s hair as he came in the man’s mouth, his orgasm ripped from him. Jim gasped for air as he tried to steady himself but he didn’t have anything to anchor himself to. He moved his leg from off Sebastian and hunched forward until his forehead rested against the other man’s shoulder. He craved contact desperately and he gripped the back of Sebastian’s neck with one hand to hold him in place while Jim breathed heavily against his ear. Sebastian was steady like a rock and Jim closed his eyes against the dizziness. “Thank you.” He murmured. 

Sebastian could feel the desperate scrambling and wrapped his arms around him, sitting on the bench next to him with a hiss as his wet ass touched the wood and then with a sigh pulling Jim into his arms, "Fuck you're a cute little thing." He mumbled, "Really cute. I see Mags looking at you and I want to tear those stupid glasses off and stab him in the eyes with them." The water was still misting over them in a fine spray. 

Jim was shaking, he didn’t even know why anymore. Relief probably. His head was clearer now, he could think around the fog. “Do you think he’s going to—touch me? I know, fuck all it matters what with being here and all I just don’t- sorry.” Jim bit down on the concern that had built in him since Magnussen had first approached him, he’d been afraid of that this whole time but hadn’t been able to voice the question until now. Now that he was able to calm down and he’d finished his first weekend of work. Fuck. Maybe his head wasn’t totally on straight yet. He gripped Sebastian’s shoulders tighter, reveling in the comfort such a simple thing brought. 

Sebastian hesitated, wrapping arms tighter around Jim and not sure whether to go for comforting or realistic. "I-I gotta say kid, probably yes, eventually. I had to give him a blow job yesterday just to calm him down. One thing though, he'll not go anywhere near your arse. He'll get other people to, on the set, but he won't touch it, won't for any of the models or actors. God knows why." 

Jim barely kept a sob from escaping; he took a deep breath instead. He was freaked out and part of him wondered if any of this was worth it, worth going through. “I’m sorry,” he said instead of going down that path. “I wouldn’t have fucked around so much if I’d known you’d—have to do that. I thought he’d just be pissed at me.” Jim kept his face tucked against Sebastian’s neck as his hands clung too tightly. 

"Shhh ... alright, calm down." Sebastian glanced nervously around the washroom, but nobody seemed about to bother them. With CAM in his office they were probably enjoying the down-time. He looked helplessly at the kid curled up in his lap. This wasn't really his strong point, cheering people up, and it didn't help he could see exactly what Jim was so worried about, and knew he was right to bother. "Look we both pissed around, OK? I could've popped you one on the head then beat your arse while you recovered. 'S not the first time I've done it. Mags likes control, and if he thinks he's got it over you he pretty much leaves you alone." And then finally, finally he broke the taboo and mentioned it. "Look, everyone has reasons to be here. I dunno what your reason is, but he's using it to get you down, and he's using every reaction you make to find /more/ ways of getting to you. Right now you're freaking, so I'll bet every penny I have, which is about two of them, that next week you'll get a softer ride as he tries you out. Watson or someone. That way he'll keep you, hook you, reel you in. Now my way of dealing with bastards like that is decking them. I can't deck Mags so I roll with the punches. Watson hangs onto his morals, thinks he's a better person than Mags which, let’s face it, he is. You find a way of dealing. And you should at least enjoy your week." He took a breath, it was something of a long speech for him, and then sighed, nuzzling against Jim's neck, "You're all warm and soft." 

Jim felt himself calm down a little as Sebastian talked, even if his words themselves weren’t all that hopeful. “I didn’t-know. If I was the only one. If everyone else was in on it- with him. It’s isolating thinking everyone is out to get you.” Jim chuckled even though that feeling of being cornered and backed into a wall wasn’t really funny. “Next time you should just hit me over the head. I would have deserved it. Wasn’t thinking straight.” He still wasn’t, which was probably part of the reason this conversation was happening at all. 

Sebastian chuckled, knowing he was breaking the rules in a fairly big way by revealing this, but his arms were full of a wet naked Jim and he didn't care all that much. "Oh no, don't worry. We're all here on sufferance. Even squeaky-clean Watson. No fucking clue what big secret he's got, although I've heard rumours his sisters in a bad way or something." He smirked, gently bopping Jim on the side of the head with a fist, "Right. Got it. Although it'll be more fun paddling that cute little bum of yours if you're squirming around on my lap. I spent enough time slapping unconscious blokes in the army." 

“I shouldn’t feel better that everyone’s in the same shit position, but I do.” Jim chuckled tiredly and sat up a bit in Sebastian’s lap. “Alright, I hear you. I can’t promise to behave all the time, but I’ll make an effort. How’s that?” 

Sebastian grinned and rubbed at his lower lip, still bruised, "'S long as you're still walking and not broken that's good enough for me. Get your head sorted, yeah?" he tapped at Jim's dark strands, "Remember, he's looking for signs of weakness. Just, and I'm sure you've got this already, don't be fucking sarcastic or push him. That man does not bluff. First time he shoved a dildo up me he bent down and asked if it felt OK, I spat in his face and told him I could easily take two more. That was... not a fun shoot." He stood up, depositing Jim on the bench, then kissed the top of his head again. "Alright, piss off and go be a student. Study. Get drunk. Eat pot-noodles. I'll see you next weekend." 

Jim nodded, taking Sebastian’s words to heart. He was sure he’d still slip but, but he was determined not to get anyone else in trouble again. Jim pulled on his clothes, his hard on had finally gone down at some point and couldn’t help smiling a bit even if he had very little to be smiling about. He felt like he owed Sebastian something on account of him being the least shitty person here. “Erm… my name’s James. Jim.”


	3. We're All Fucked

Are you able to come into work on Friday late afternoon rather than Saturday? –CAM 

Sure. Why do I need to be there a day early? JM 

Watson can't film on Sunday. It's a new script so we'll need to block on Friday, film Saturday. –CAM 

Alright, I’ll be there. JM 

Good. I will email the script. You are a nurse looking after a wounded soldier. -CAM

Inspired. JM

Please do a good job, so far we have not been able to use any of your footage. -CAM

You know it might help a bit if at some point I was told what you want me doing instead of leaving me to fumble about like an idiot. JM

That is why you are coming on Friday. We can block the scene. Some people manage to act straight in front of the camera. I like to see what people are capable of. -CAM

Yeah, I bet you do. I'll be there. JM

You disarmed Moran. I think that says more about him than you. They threw him out the army for being too violent. -CAM

Maybe he's just got a soft spot for twinks. JM

I tamed him. -CAM

Funny thing about taming a wild animal is you can teach it as many tricks as you want and it will still bite your head off the moment you turn your back. JM 

Do you know what they say about lion tamers, Richard? That a good lion tamer walks into the ring with a whip but an /excellent/ lion tamer does not even need a whip. -CAM

Do you want to watch him suck my cock? Drink my piss? He'll do it. –CAM 

That's not necessary. I've agreed to come in on Friday. JM 

I do not tame my actors just to control you Moriarty. But my tiger has a special place in my trophy cabinet. You should have seen how dangerous he was when we first met. -CAM

And if I can control a tiger, Mr. Moriarty, I should have no problem controlling a little magpie like you. -CAM

Alright, I get it. JM

I will see you on Friday. -CAM

Yes, sir. JM 

Good boy. –CAM   
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The place was pretty quiet on Friday evening, the camera and shoot men were there as usual but otherwise only John and CAM were present, CAM waiting by the camera and John already rather self-consciously in costume, getting the last of some fake-looking bruises put on by make-up. CAM nodded at Jim, "Wash and enema, I do not need to check you this time... unless you would prefer." The script called for Jim to play a fairly clinical and demanding nurse, getting more and more sexual with the body in front of him before finally giving John a blowjob. 

Jim had taken a later train to get here after class and he wasn’t feeling very charitable today. So he just responded with, “I’ll manage, thanks.” Before heading in to the back rooms. When he came out again in costume he had centered himself and calmed down some, prepared to do whatever he had to today to make sure Magnussen got off his back. And he wasn’t going to be as shitty to Watson as he had been to his other partners. “I’m Richard,” Jim introduced himself after he had cleaned up. 

Jim's costume was even slightly decent this time - the blue top somewhat see-through and the trousers distinctly clingy but at least he was covered in material, even if all of it would be removed by the end of the shot. John gave a rather tight smile and shook his hand, wearing nothing but army slacks and, for some reason, large boots. "John Wayland. Nice to meet you. I - um - assume you know what to expect? From the script?" He looked up as CAM approached, pleased to have an excuse not to do small talk. 

“Yeah, I know the score. Sebastian seems to think you are decent.” Jim couldn’t really finish that sentence. He’d meant to say that he trusted John not to hurt him unless he had to. But that wasn’t really a great way to start off the day, especially as John looked so uncomfortable. Jim just smiled and left it at that, seeing as Cam was headed over anyways. 

"Well I suppose compared to some..." was all John murmured in response before CAM nodded at them both, pointing at the bed set up at the side of the bed. "The crew is just here to finish editing and sort the lights, we're just going to block through the script. I will direct, you will not be filmed. Filming is tomorrow. Wayland, on the bed, Richard, by the table. Run through and see how it goes." 

Jim nodded and stepped over to the table. When he got a nod from Magnussen he picked up the small penlight from his “medical kit” and turned back to John who was now lying on the bed. “Looks like someone fucked you up good,” Jim said clinically, as the script described. “Look at the light.” Jim rubbed a hand over John’s chest on the pretense of holding him still, practically groping the man as he flicked the light in John’s eyes. “Your pupils are dilated.” He rubbed his index finger across one of John’s nipples. With his other hand he pressed a finger against one of the dark “bruises” on John’s abdomen. “Tell me how that feels.” God all of this was still awful and fake but Jim was determined to try this time, he wouldn’t cause more trouble for any of the actors. Besides, he wasn’t sure how long Magnussen’s grace would last if he continued to fail. 

Magnussen watched, expression unreadable, as John ran though the similarly clichéd dialogue, gasping and squirming under Jim's touch. As the dialogue got heavier, and faker, he raised a hand. John shut up instantly, mid-sentence, and Magnussen nodded, "Move up onto the bed. You should be straddling him by this point. Push out your backside. The camera will be here." He moved to stand in the position he'd indicated. "Keep the light on you. Continue." John started up again. 

Jim grabbed a stethoscope out of the bag and crawled over Wayland on the bed, hovering over the man on his hands and knees. He grit his teeth and stuck out his ass a bit further, placing the stethoscope in his ears before moving the diaphragm around John’s chest. “Your heart rate is accelerated.” It wasn’t. Jim got the impression that this man wasn’t shaken by much. 

John gave a small encouraging smile up at Jim above him, feeling sorry as he always did for the new boys, often forced into this by CAMs power and through very little choice of their own. Licking his lips he breathed faster, one hand sliding up Jim's leg, his eyes faintly apologetic. "N-no, I don't think it is ... maybe you'd better check a little longer." 

“Alright,” Jim murmured. He reached down and intentionally brushed his hand across John’s crotch. “How about now?” He felt himself relax just a tiny bit. This was the first day on set that he hadn’t actively been concerned for someone’s safety and that went a long way. It was still horrible and left him feeling like ants were crawling over his skin anywhere he touched Wayland, but it was bearable. 

John gave a little gasp, not overacting too much given this was just the block, but trying to work out the kind of reactions CAM would be happiest with. "Y-yes, that really does feel a bit better ... you must be a wonderful little nurse..." 

CAM came over, walking slowly, still looking them over like a sculpture eyeing up a block of stone. Reaching forward he tugged open the first two buttons of Jim's uniform, then placed two fingers in the middle of his spine. "Arch ... the camera wants to see right down your arse." 

A muscle jumped in Jim’s jaw but he obeyed, taking a breath through his nose to calm his temper. He supposed it had been too much to hope that Magnussen would keep his fucking hands to himself today. Jim waited for more direction and went back to what he was doing with John when none was forth coming. His delivered his lines with a little more snark then he had previously, but tried to keep it in. He continued to touch John lightly. Jim was simulating the movements, not placing any pressure on John’s crotch. He was still hoping that he wouldn’t have to suck him off today as it was just a rehearsal but he wouldn’t hold his breath. 

Magnussen walked around them as they continued, scrutinising every movement, while John breathed nervously and tried to push himself up into Jim's hands, to make up for the fact that the kid seemed to be barely touching him. They continued until Magnussen held up a hand, his eyes pale and looking slightly disappointed. "Richard, Richard. You were so good yesterday, with Sebastian. You used him, belittled him, made him cum. Now?" He leaned forward towards Jim's face. "Hold this man down and suck him off. It isn't that difficult. Imagine there is a camera there." He nodded in the direction where he'd been previously standing. "And behind that camera imagine the audience that watches this. You are not a clever scholarship boy in this room. You are a grubby, dirty whore, who has been touched by all those men. Now. Suck him off." 

Jim sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and bit down hard on the inside of his mouth, trying to hold back the vitriol that wanted to come pouring out. He felt his face heat and a hand twitched against John in an aborted movement. Still, he clenched his jaw tighter and tried to focus on getting through this rehearsal. Then he could go home and work on his paper that was due tonight. He’d pick up something decent to eat on the way home. He’d make himself some tea. He’d listen to Bach. Jim could push past his anger and focus on those things. Jim looked up at John, checking to make sure he was okay with this. Jim felt encouraged and fumbled with the buttons a moment before giving up and staring John down instead. “Get your trousers off.” He directed. 

John gave him a worried sort of look, reaching down and fumbling with his trousers, stopping as CAM gave a little shake of the head, still looking at Jim. "He is injured, Richard. He is injured, and confused and hurting. You have the power, you strip him and suck him. Now." 

Jim bared his teeth, hunching his shoulders, and managed to get John’s trousers down to his thighs after a bit of effort. John really wasn’t hard and Jim paused for a moment, slightly confused about what to do. 

John shot him a desperate apologetic look, he'd been trying but really, nothing about this scene - a coerced young man doing a fairly bad job of acting like a sexy nurse - did much to turn him on at all. Having been a soldier, he always found the soldier sketches difficult, Moran would laugh, and joke, and grope him around till he was at least half-hard and then the injection would tide him the rest of the way over. But pretending to be injured, with a young man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else, was leaving him completely unaroused. Magnussen gave a slightly annoyed sounding tut, reaching forward and pressing two fingers under Jim's chin. "Please don't tell me you can't make a man aroused. How did you manage with your dear boyfriend, hmm? Before he so tragically ... passed away." It was more than half a threat. 

“Fuck you,” the words were caught in his throat, strangling him. He wished they were more forceful, wished they were stronger but Magnussen had managed to unbalance him and that alone pissed Jim off entirely. Jim didn’t jerk his face away from Magnussen’s grip, he just stared him down defiantly. At this point John was completely forgotten. 

Magnussen shook his head, his eyes still bland and unreadable. "You still don't understand." He said softly, while John shifted awkwardly underneath them, rather wishing his cock wasn't fully exposed, and wondering if now was a good time to ask for a bit of chemical help to get aroused. "I own you. Whatever I want, you do. And now I want you to stop being a little brat, and start sucking cock. So you will do that." Reaching forward he tapped the side of Jim's face, starting lightly with two fingers and increasing the pressure with each tap. "Do I need to break you in? Like I broke in the Tiger?" 

“Fucking kill you…” he snarled viciously. Jim blinked and when he opened his eyes again he was standing upright and his hand struck Magnussen across the face. He watched his glasses skid across the floor and felt a slight disconnect from reality. This was a scene he’d played out so many times in his mind he couldn’t be sure if it was real or not. His hand hurt enough, he didn’t think he’d ever imagined that before. 

John gave a small gulp, sitting quickly and doing his trousers up. He wasn't sure how CAM would react but he was damn sure he didn't want his cock out at the time, quickly he grabbed Jim's wrist, "Richard, calm down, it's alright, it's his first time, we'll - we'll practice all evening." he gabbled. 

Magnussen said nothing, bent down to pick up his glasses, put them back on, his pale face reddened on one side when Jim had hit. "I don't think this is going to work as a scene." He said quietly, although the room was silent enough it sounded loud. "John, you will not be needed tomorrow. Richard - please turn up on time. You will not need a script." Ignoring both of them, he headed for his office. 

Jim shook, his rage still fresh and now without and outlet. Jim picked up the med kit off the table and chucked the whole thing against a wall before storming off to the changing room. He started stripping quickly, frustrated when he couldn’t get the buttons undone with shaking hands. “Fuck!” 

John winced as the med kit hit the wall, hurrying after him and watching him with concern. "You, you really shouldn't have done that. Which I suppose you know..." he sighed, feeling at least partially responsible for failing to get aroused. "Look, I'm sorry. Really. It's - it's always tough to begin with. At least CAM's giving you another chance..." his voice petered out. He knew exactly what CAMs last chances for twinks were: Darren, unscripted. And given that Jim had hit him, CAM was likely to be more angry than ever, even if it didn't show. "Do, uh, do you want me to phone Sebastian?" It was the only person he could think of that Jim might be able to talk to. 

“Stop fucking saying you’re sorry, you didn’t do anything. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I was /trying./” Jim felt all of thirteen again, in high school when bullies picked on him and he left them bleeding in the dirt. This reminded him of all those times he’d sat in front of a teacher or the principle and tried to explain while they looked on in judgment. “Didn’t mean to fuck that up for you, sorry.” He mumbled out. “No, don’t. I fucked up I can handle it.” Jim thought if he saw the disappointment in Sebastian’s expression right now he’d explode. “What happens when he’s through giving me chances?” 

John gave a pained look, seeing the hurt and anger in Jim and hating CAM more than ever, despising himself along with it. He still couldn't bring himself to tell Jim the absolute truth though, so he settled for, "He usually finds some use for everyone. He might let you stay in another capacity - set dressing, or makeup..." it sounded fake even to him and he ended it with, "At least you've got another chance tomorrow, although it's likely to be a bit ... brutal." 

Jim snorted as he pulled his trousers up. “Lovely.” He couldn’t think about tomorrow right now, he was starting to get control again but if he let that feeling of hopelessness take hold he might just do something worse than slapping Magnussen. Jim looked over at John and saw the conflict on his face. “’S not your fault, I mean it. I’ve been having problems since the beginning. You’re fine.” Jim remembered what Sebastian said about John needing to feel like he was better than Magnussen. “You were decent. Sebastian or Darren would have just knocked me over the head until I shut up.” 

John just about managed a small smile at that, "I don't know, Sebastian seems to have taken a shine to you." He grabbed his clothes quickly, not wanting to mention Darren or think about it too much. "Well ... good luck tomorrow. I won't be there I'm afraid ..." he also felt guilty that now he would have the whole weekend off, at the expense of Jim. Giving another quick smile, he nodded, "Right." and left. He sent a text to Sebastian once he was outside. then hurried home.   
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim walked into the studio the next day mostly on time, projecting confidence even though he was feeling anything but. He didn’t know what “unscripted” meant but figured it probably wasn’t going to be him sitting on a bench and glaring at people. Jim smirked, remembering as he wove his way through people towards the changing rooms. 

Darren was already in the room, and gave Jim a cheerful nod. Sebastian, standing next to him, looked nothing like as cheerful, his jaw clenching but managing what he hoped was a sympathetic smile. After receiving John's text he'd been tempted to just hide for the whole of Saturday, but of course Magnussen had asked him to come in, to block a scene with Paul, despite the fact that the little Czech whore could act backwards if he needed to. His scene was being blocked in a small room with a hanging bulb, while the warehouse set was out again for Jim and Darren. 

Jim side eyed Darren suspiciously and was surprised to see Sebastian. “You alright? You look funny.” Jim said waspishly. “What are you doing here?” 

Sebastian scowled at him, the true answer, 'because Mags is a sadistic bastard' clearly wouldn't be a good idea with everyone around, instead he snapped "Got a scene to block, I hear you fucked up yesterday." Paul breezed out of the showers, wearing a small slip of muslin, and tapping Jim on the head as he passed, giving a smirk. 

Magnussen came out of his office, giving a small tight smile as he saw Jim, "Richard. Wash, enema and change. You'll only be wearing underwear for the start of this scene." 

He rolled his eyes and nodded, sparing a glare for the flirty boy who walked passed. Jim watched Magnussen leave and turned back to Sebastian. “I was fine till I lost my temper. He hit me and I hit back.” Jim tilted his chin up challengingly, he wasn’t in the mood to hear Sebastian lecture him when he had the full day ahead of him. 

For a moment Sebastian struggled with a smile - the idea of Jim lashing out at CAM was a fun one and Sebastian would have paid a lot of money to see that. Then the reality sunk in and he raised his eyebrows, "Ohhhh man are you in trouble." He flickered a quick glance at Magnussen, wincing as he saw the man was looking right at them and then muttered, "Stretch, alright? When you clean out. Stretch as wide as you fucking can." Paul had arranged himself in a flirty pouty way on the bed and with a sigh Sebastian headed over. 

Jim thought Sebastian might smile for a moment but he didn’t and somehow that left Jim cold with disappointment. He scowled at the boy on the bed again before collecting his things and getting ready. He figured there was no harm in taking Sebastian’s advice. When he was done he came out in his underwear like he was told and stood next to Darren patiently. Jim was determined to get through today, no matter how shitty it turned out to be. 

Darren put an arm around Jim and gave him a squeeze, grinning over at Seb as he did so. "Alright Richard - hope you're looking forward to this as much as I am..." 

Magnussen gave him an annoyed little look then turned to Jim. "You'll start the shot in the warehouse - on the floor, you've been knocked out. Come to as Darren enters. Do not leave the set. Camera roll just before Darren comes in. Unscripted." his pale empty eyes stared blandly at Jim's behind the glasses. "Maybe this time we can produce something that will sell." 

Jim nodded and ducked out from under Darren’s arm peevishly. He followed Darren’s gaze over to Sebastian and gave him a look. He laid down on the ground and waited for the camera man to cue him. Then Jim made a show of coming around and sitting up, holding his head like he’d been injured. “Where am I?” 

Sebastian was meant to be blocking with Paul - which given the simplicity of their script (Western man employed Czech hooker) was basically an excuse for a fuck, yet he could feel his stomach tighten as he heard Jim start to speak. He only had half a view into the warehouse set but flinched as Darren slammed the door open, coming straight over to Jim and hauling him upright by the throat. Paul tugged at him, peevishly, "Fuck is up with you, come on..." 

Jim had promised himself that he would behave today, that he’d get through with minimal fuss. He’d take whatever was dished out at him with dignity and move on. Literally within ten seconds that whole plan fell to shit. He startled when the door slammed against the wall and turned to look at Darren but the next thing he knew he couldn’t /breathe/ and he was kicking out at Darren because his feet couldn’t touch the /ground/ and he tried to reach and scratch any part of Darren he could get ahold of while he wheezed desperately around the man’s hands. His eyes rolled up in his head and his whole body thrashed trying to free himself. 

Darren just laughed, giving him a shake and then flinging him on the floor, "Stupid little shit. That's what you get for fucking up my yard work." He gave Jim a kick, then tugged a roll of duct tape out of his hold-all, grabbing Jim's wrists and yanking them back. "Stay quiet now ... maybe then I might even spare your arse ... or maybe not!" 

Jim just laid there and gulped in air while he could, he felt slightly dizzy with the need for it. He rolled with a grunt when he was kicked. This was more familiar. Unfortunately. Jim was rolled over on his stomach and he heard the sound of tape stretching off the roll. “No!” He kicked out at Darren’s leg, hoping that if he landed a blow Darren might just go back to beating him. At least he’d still have his hands. 

Darren swore as the leg kicked at him, slapping hard across Jim's face and then duct-taping his wrists together behind his back, "Dammit, and there was me thinking I might go easy on you..." Rolling Jim over, he yanked down his underwear to his knees, slapping hard at his ass and thighs while his other hand wrapped around Jim's neck, not squeezing but certainly threatening. "You can scream all you want out here you little bitch, but if it gets annoying I might have to gag you..."

He stared hard at the ground, desperately reaching for some semblance of control. Jim’s nose was bleeding sluggishly from the slap, he’d been moving too much and Darren missed his cheek. If Jim lost his shit here the other man would duct tape his mouth and Jim could be in real trouble if he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He tested the duct tape but there was very little give—unless he found a sharp object the bonds weren’t coming off until someone decided to free him. Getting his ass slapped was humiliating and it hurt, but not as much as getting choked or kicked in the ribs had. He felt Darren’s hand wrapped threateningly around his neck and Jim couldn’t be arsed to fight back just now. Honestly there wasn’t much point. This wasn’t real. If Jim somehow freed himself where would he go? There were at least a dozen other people in the room who would stop him before he even made it to the door. Jim didn’t think he’d be able to control all of his reactions and reflexes but he could at least try and make this as painless as possible for himself. As long as he was still breathing it would be okay. 

"That's better." Darren said satisfied although there was a tinge of disappointment in his voice as well. Tugging Jim up he pressed him face first against the wall, his shoulder pressed in at an uncomfortable angle, "Aww… gone all quiet now? Don’t worry, I’m sure you'll make a noise when I take that damage you did to my yard out of your arse..." Bending Jim over in front of the camera he quickly thrust two fingers inside him. 

“Fuck!” Jim yelped and tried to twist away from Darren’s hands. /God/ was the man fucking allergic to lube or something!? Jim giggled at his own joke and smacked his own forehead against the wall a couple times to clear his head. He still couldn’t wipe the smile off his face though, even if it was a bit fatalistic. 

Darren paused a little as Jim giggled, clearly not expecting it, and then laughed in return, running his hands up and down Jim's body, pinching and groping, "Ha - knew you were a little slut, hmm? And you're nice and open already..." His fingers dived back down, pushing in hard again while he muttered, "Fucking Seb..." under his breath, having a good idea who might have warned Jim to stretch first. Magnussen may or may not have heard it, but he turned briefly to look as Sebastian half-heartedly groped Paul around and gave him a small smile as Jim yelped. 

“Awww, you don’t like it when they don’t hurt Darren? You can’t get it up when they don’t cry? Fucking pathetic,” He spat out, slamming back against Darren ineffectually and trying to break his hold. 

"As pathetic as being stripped and fucked in a warehouse?" Darren growled, biting hard on his ear and kicking his legs apart, the two fingers still twisting and stretching hard in Jim's arse. "I can make this a hell of a lot worse for you kid ... you should see what else I've got in the bag..." He sighed as CAM gave them a frown, Jim was being hidden from camera view, and flung him back down on the floor, heading over to the bag and pulling out a ribbed dildo. "Let’s see if I can fit this in you ... and if you're kind enough to give me a blow-job afterwards.” 

Jim groaned a bit as he landed on the floor. His arms were behind his back and he hadn’t been able to catch his fall. Jim had barely managed to keep from biting through his lower lip. He sneered from the floor and smiled toothily, “Don’t fucking tempt me Darren. I dare you to put your cock anywhere near my mouth. See how quickly you lose it.” Jim was bluffing, oh—he’d be tempted to bite the fuckers cock off, sure. But he wasn’t feeling that fatalistic over a blow job. 

"Attitude like that you'll be lucky to have any teeth left by the time I'm finished with you." Darren snarled back, coming over with a wrench. For a moment he made as if to smack Jim with it, just to watch his expression, but finally grinned and settled for duct-taping it between his ankles, restricting his movement and keeping his legs humiliatingly apart. Grabbing Jim's hips, he wrenched his ass up, slapping him a few times with the dildo before rubbing the head on his ass. "Beg me to shove it in your mouth first ... or you'll get it dry..." Over on the bed Sebastian gave a frustrated snarl, yanking at Paul's hair while the Czech gave a little squeal of delight, feeling hopeless. 

Jim wiggled his ass, “Oh please Darren. Please put the dildo in me. It’s no replacement for your dick but seeing as you can’t get that up without someone to cry for you, I guess I’ll have to settle.” Jim snarled, laughing out loud at Darren and his fucking stupidity. Jim rolled his weight forward and braced one of his shoulders against the floor before bucking and kicking his feet out with the wrench, catching the metal across Darren’s body. 

Darren fell with a cry of pain (Sebastian gave a hissed 'yesssss' from the bed) but was soon up again backhanding Jim hard around the face, "You stupid little /slut/." Forgetting that he was on a set, that he was even in a shoot, Darren stamped hard on Jim's shoulder, grinding it against the floor. 

Jim didn’t feel anything until he heard his shoulder /pop/ and then he screamed. /Fucking fuck fuck that hurt./ He sucked at the air, desperately, his eyes going wide. He kicked out again with the wrench but missed this time. God he just wanted it to /stop/ he’d do anything to stop Darren standing on his injured shoulder. He didn’t scream again but he couldn’t stop all of the noises he made, a continuous pained growl emanated from his chest as he tried to wiggle away from under Darren’s foot. 

Magnussen frowned at the noise Jim made. Darren raised his foot to kick out at him again when he was felled by a naked Seb tackling him from the side. Ignoring the two men scrapping in the corner of the set Magnussen stepped forward, pressing against Jim's injured shoulder and making an annoyed little noise. "Stop filming, call Dr. Watson. Get the tape off him. Richard stop screaming." 

Jim literally swallowed against the noise trying to escape his body, it just came out as a strangled moan. If only people would stop /stepping on his fucked up shoulder/ maybe he could be quiet for five fucking seconds. “Sebastian,” he gasped out, “leave it.” 

Sebastian neither heard nor cared, continuing to hit Darren, who continued to hit him back. Two of the set men dragged Jim out of the way and onto the bed, recently vacated by Paul, who was standing up with a towel wrapped low around his hips looking annoyed. CAM nodded at the camera man, who brought out the hose from the bathroom and turned it on full stream until both Seb and Darren were in a wet soggy mess against the boards of the set. One of the camera men peeled the duct-tape off Jim's ankles and then looked a bit helplessly at his wrists, not wanting to move them until the doctor arrived. 

Jim hissed out a breath and tried to get a look at his shoulder which wasn’t easy as he was lying on his stomach. What he could see was swelling rapidly and already bruising. Jim swore he’d kill Darren. Stupid fucker. The good (bad?) news was that his shoulder had mostly stopped hurting, the area was numb except for a faint tingling down his neck through his arm. The muscles spasmed and his whole body shook with the pain that caused. /Fuck/ but this hurt and he was angry his hands hadn’t been untied, even if he understood why. 

Both Seb and Darren were ordered straight into Magnussen's office, before the man came over to Jim, pressing two finger lightly along various parts of his shoulder and looking displeased. "Once Weyland has sorted you out, come into my office. No more filming this weekend, but we need to ... discuss your future." After that he headed back into his office. Ten minutes later Sebastian stormed out, not looking at anyone, and went into the showers. John arrived a few minutes after, panting a little as he'd run from the car-park, heading straight over to Jim. 

Jim dredged up a broken smile for John, pleased to see someone at his bedside who wasn’t on his list to be eventually murdered. “What are you doing here? Are you here to rescue me?” 

John's eyes flickered away from his face, "No ... I'm here to patch you up so that you can come back to this nightmare all over again next week. That's what I do now." Carefully he cut away the duct tape around Jim's wrists. "This might hurt. This will hurt. I've got to reset your shoulder. Then I'll just put it in a sling until it heals up." Taking a breath he grabbed at Jim's shoulder and without any warning set it back into place. 

Jim yelled out in surprise and pain but it tapered into a laugh, he thought the endorphins might be kicking in in response to the pain. “Fucking believe this? I lose my temper and Darren gets to rape me. Darren loses his temper and he fucking gets to disable me. No biggie.” Jim thought he might be a little fucked up right now but he was still high on the realization that he’d gone another week without getting fucked. He had the best luck! Jim winced when John tugged his arm into a sling… maybe not the /best/ luck. 

John looked at him with sad eyes, trying to resist the urge, once again, to just shoot Magnussen straight through the forehead. It would send him to jail, true, but every day he was given more and more reasons why it would be worth it. "I'll, uh, just go check Seb's alright..." he managed, wincing at a roar and a crash from the bathroom. "You should... you should go and see CAM..." Darren walked out of Cam's office, scowling and wiping his lips, shouldering roughly past Jim and into the showers. 

Jim hissed as Darren practically plowed into him, narrowly avoiding the sling. He hoped that John would be able to keep those two civil, they’d beaten on each other enough in the last few minutes—the idiots. Jim was losing the high fast and in its place the pain came and grew. Darren hadn’t ever punched him but even a slap was hard enough to bruise his face. And he’d kicked him in the ribs a few times. Jim’s throat felt like /shit/ and it still hurt to breathe. He hoped that wrench gave Darren bruises where it would /hurt./ Jim opened the door to the office and stepped inside. Before he’d been mildly curious about its interior but now he couldn’t bring himself to care. It took everything he had to just stay on his feet. 

Magnussen was sitting on the other side of the desk but rose as he saw Jim, quickly coming over and steadying him. "My little Richard Brook..." his hands played with Jim's hair as he lead him over to a chair, sitting him down and crouching opposite to face him. "You make a very beautiful porn actor, but you don't make a very good one. And now Darren has broken your body." He poked at Jim's shoulder. "I know you're probably worried right now, worried that your secret will be out, that you've failed me and broken our contract." Abruptly standing he walked around the desk again, opening the drawer and looking inside it. "Did John give you anything for the pain?" 

“You haven’t exactly set me up to succeed though, have you? Sure, I’ve fucked around but playing games with my head and fucking with me doesn’t exactly inspire me to behave. If you’re mad about today you should have given me a script.” Jim smiled up tiredly, “Know that it’s supposed to be a punishment but you can hardly fault me for pissing around when it’s little more than an excuse to torture me.” He didn’t sound nearly as smart as he felt, what with his nose swollen and congested with blood. “No, he didn’t. Was he supposed to?” Jim was going to be kind of pissed off if John had been holding out on him. 

"Today was not your fault. It was Darren's." Magnussen said coldly, tugging a small pot out of the drawer and pushing it across the table. "Take some. It'll help. And you are right. I've been trying ... various ways to produce something with you that will sell. So now tell me - what do you want? You will cooperate now, but I still need some way of getting sex out of you. Do you want Sebastian? Script? No script? Tell me." 

Jim tried to shrug and winced, digging a few of the pills out of the pot. He wasn’t sure how much they were or really /what/ they were. Paracetamol? But they didn’t look like anything he’d seen before. Jim thought /fuck it/ and took four, swallowed them dry. “Don’t put me in these scenes again. I’m not a masochist, I don’t like it, and I’ll keep fighting it. I won’t mean to but it’s instinctual. I’ll work with Sebastian, John… I haven’t really met anyone else. Maybe that Czech kid. Keep Darren the fuck away from me, I mean it. Shit… what was I saying?” Jim felt dizzy and thought the pills might be kicking in. “Right… no script. Fuck, those things are /awful./ Honestly maybe something less ridiculous? Roommate sex. That happens all the fucking time, I /know/ I live in a- a dorm. Thin walls. Um. Secret tryst, fuck if I know!” Jim collapsed back in his chair. “Just maybe not something unbelievable. Oh /god/ and get Wayland out of that fucking uniform, he obviously hates it…” Jim was floating and it was impossible to keep a smile off his face. “Do you not see how awkward he looks? Put him somewhere else, don’t care how good he looks in that. If you want good stuff you have to put people where they are comfortable!” 

Magnussen stared at him for a while, then gave a small tight smile. "Very well. I think a few pretty twinks as room-mates should be manageable. Watson will do as I tell him, there's a large market for the military kink - or would you prefer I partnered Sebastian with Darren while he's in uniform?" As far as CAM was concerned if he couldn't batter Jim down in the short-term he could play the long game - turn the scowling bright young scholar into a desperate junkie, narrow down his choices one by one until he'd be begging for Darren, just to keep CAM happy. For now though, just getting him hooked and making some money from him would work, let Jim get used to the porn before sliding him into more degrading territory, and use this time to find out more weaknesses to exploit. 

“Darren’s like a pit bull in a ring, he takes it out on everyone else but it’s really you he hates.” Jim smiled prettily, “Can I go home now? I have to- um… write a paper or—fuck. Something.” 

"Of course." Magnussen came over, helping him up and handing him the little pot. "Don't take any more today, but you might need some tomorrow." Gently he patted Jim on the behind. "Next week, no script. You, and Paul, in a bed. Get flirty and sexy or we might have to discuss our arrangement." He paused and then patted Jim's bottom again. "Please go and check on Sebastian before you head off, before he destroys my showers completely, the poor boy owes enough without me charging him even more." 

Jim nodded happily and took the jar, pleased that he’d been given more without having to ask. He managed his way to the showers and stopped short at what he saw there. “Holy shite.” For the first time he noticed his accent was coming in heavily and he scowled a little, peeved that his control wasn’t better. 

Sebastian was still in the showers, braced against the tiles with his head dropped, swearing in a gasping voice as, behind him, Darren fucked hard into his ass. Darren turned as he saw Jim, giving him a little smirk and yanking at Sebastian's hair, "Look whose come to play - the little prick who left me all horny..." Sebastian gave a drunk-sounding groan and Darren winked at Jim, "Nah, you're all good. Piss off though kid, you can't handle it, so let the big boys play, alright?"

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jim went very cold and still, watching Darren carefully. He sneered, “I was right about you. You’re just a little bitch. You were given free reign, had me tied up even, and you /still/ couldn’t fuck me. Now you’re trying to compensate? It doesn’t work like that you fuck.” Jim laughed, “That’s why /you/ were the one sucking cock in Mag’s office, because he knows that’s all you are actually good for. Although, with what few brain cells you have I wouldn’t expect you to understand that much.”

Darren stared at him, his face twisting, clearly fighting against the anger, and hissing as Sebastian reached around to grab his arse, digging his nails in, "Oh fuck you. You may be the favourite now, but you wait until he throws you onto the fucking rubbish heap like the rest of us." Snarling, he pounded Seb harder, as the man scrabbled against wet tiles under the spray, his fringe covering his face and refusing to look up. "I'll get hold of you one day, and I'll fuck you into A&E. But for now I'm happy to do the damage to Sebby seeing as you seem to have a /thing/ about him." 

Jim rolled his eyes and put his good hand on his hip. “Right. Because I think he is worth more than being your dick cosy. Sebastian?” He snapped out, slightly irritated even through the high. His accent was even stronger now, fucks sake! 

Sebastian groaned again, pressing his forehead against the tiles. When his words did come they were growled, "Just fuck off kid..." 

Darren laughed, sounding slightly triumphant, and gave Seb a hard slap on the arse, "You're wrong, Brook. He's worth nothing more than being a dick cosy for anyone who pays. Maybe he could have been, a while ago, but he's CAM's little bitch now, and you will be too. Now." He gave Sebastian another slap, watching the muscles on his back tense and shudder. "Piss off and if you're good Sebby might even send you a text later to apologise for not diving in to 'save' you sooner." 

Jim completely ignored Darren and kept his eyes on Sebastian. “Moran! Fucking look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Jim’s mood swings felt a bit out of control right now and he was pretty sure he was about five minutes away from violence. 

Sebastian's head snapped up, looking at Jim almost in shock, blinking and biting his lip, stifling the next groan as Darren thrust into him hard. He gave a little growl, but it wasn't at Jim this time, straightening up a bit and pushing himself back from the wall, palms of his hands on the tiles, looking at Jim in a mixture of shame, irritation and a sort of sullen-ness. "Alright, what the /fuck/ is it?" He muttered, scowling as Darren angrily left another handprint on his arse. 

“I want you to take me home.” Jim bit it out as succinctly as possible but he thought he might have slurred a bit towards the end. 

"What, /now/?" Sebastian snapped, a flicker of worry passing over his face as he noticed how Jim was swaying, and then swore as Darren smacked him hard on the back of the head. 

Darren then turned to snarl at Jim, "Wait outside kid, you can have him when I've finished fucking him. If he can still walk." 

“You know, this might surprise you Darren but I actually don’t give a flying fuck if you finish or not.” Jim looked back at Sebastian. “Are /you/ done? With whatever this is? Have you gotten what you need yet because I can wait.” Jim leaned back against the wall to look composed. It also had the added effect of helping him balance and not falling on his face. 

Sebastian flushed, looking even more sullen and then, as Darren landed another hard slap on the muscles of his arse muttered a 'fuck it' and pushed himself away from the wall, grabbing his hoodie he tugged it on while Darren gaped at him and then grabbed Jim's shoulder and steered him out of the bathroom. From inside, he could here Darren swearing and threatening but he wasn't bothered, pulling his jeans on over his hard on and taking a big gulp of the cold night air. "Right you annoying little fucker. Where do you live?" 

“No, moron,” Jim tried to hold back a smile. “You’re taking me to yours.” 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, leading Jim over to a battered old jeep in the carpark. "Alright then, hop in." After all that had happened today he didn't particularly give a fuck anymore. "I warn you though, my place would be a tip even if it was clean. It's not clean." He turned over the engine, tugging the seat-belt across his lap and for the first time in a very long while feeling actively ashamed of what he'd become. "Sorry you had to see that." 

Jim leaned his head back against the car seat for a moment, letting his eyes falls shut. “I’ve lived in worse, I promise.” Jim looked over and assessed Sebastian’s expression with curiosity. “You shouldn’t let him fuck you. Not outside of scenes. You don’t owe that to him and he doesn’t respect you.” 

Sebastian shrugged, heading down across the river, watching the road ahead and not looking at Jim, "Yeah but I've not got any pressing reason not to have I? And today - fuck if he hadn't half broken your shoulder I would have just sat there. Sat there and listened while he..." He made a face, reaching down and turning on radio 1 to make it slightly less awkward. "Felt I deserved something after that. It's like drinking, you know? You feel so shite you need something and pain is as good as anything else.”

Jim didn’t think ‘self-respect’ would be accepted as a good reason not to have sex with shitty people. After all, it had never worked out like that for Jim. “Dislocated, it wasn’t broken.” Jim says instead. “John said I’ll be ready to scene next week. Besides, I had it covered, obviously.” He looked over at Sebastian, confused and still pretty high. “Why do you think it’s your fault? You weren’t even there yesterday. You warned me, I couldn’t listen.” He leaned back again in his chair, “It’s not your job to protect me, not when you’re in the same shit position I am.” 

"I know it's not my job but ... shit." Sebastian sighed, not sure how to explain without making himself seem even more pathetic. "Just seems a bit shit, that I would've listened to Darren assault you, hear you get fucked dry by that bastard, maybe even done it myself if Mags had ordered me..." He shuddered a little at that thought, "Wouldn't be the first time. You're not the first smart little twink to come through. I dunno why he hasn't broken you already, maybe with something as smart as you he's got something else planned." he sighed then paused for a minute before trying to explain it. "Look - when Darren fucks me off-set that's my time. Not CAMs time. I'm taking that away from him. It's not much, not exactly civil disobedience. But it's something." 

“Don’t fuck Darren anymore.” Was all Jim had to say about that. He smiled lightly and leaned his head back against the window, enjoying the floating sensation. “I wasn’t just being petulant, I really needed somewhere to stay. I have to take the tube to get here, then it’s a forty-five minute train ride and it’s about a mile walk from the station back to the college. It wouldn’t have happened. I can help with whatever to make it up to you.” Jim liked playing at entitlement but there was still the deeply engrained adage that nothing in this world is free. He didn’t accept charity. Didn’t expect Sebastian would give it to him. 

Sebastian gave a little irritated growl, "First you pull me away with a hard-on, then you forbid me from fucking him, who bloody well died and made you King?" Still, he had a feeling, irritating and deep-rooted though it was, that taking orders from Jim gave him a bit of a thrill. He /missed/ orders. It had been clear at boarding school, clear in the army, and then they'd chucked him out and everything had been confusing, and vague and random. Like Mags with his watery eyes and glasses and threats that were half-suggestions. "You're not going on the tube in your state, whatever Wayland gave you has sent you fucking flying. Don't say I didn't warn you though." 

“Don’t care who you fuck, just don’t fuck Darren.” Jim wasn’t sure that was entirely true but he wasn’t willing to examine that too closely. “I don’t have to go anywhere as long as I can stay at yours, so it’s a moot point.” Jim pouted, “m…’M not flying. Fuck you. You’re a flying fuck.” Jim laughed a little. “Don’t care if I’m high so long as it doesn’t hurt.” 

"You are high..." Sebastian sighed, driving up to a tower block and parking on the curb outside it.


	4. First Time for Everything

Getting out, he tugged his hold-all out the boot then came around to Jim's side, opening the door and helping him out, "Watch your shoulder, there we go." limping slightly he headed to the tower block, heading up the graffiti-laden stairs and ignoring Jim's eye determinedly. He'd never felt ashamed of where he lived before, but he'd never brought anyone back he wanted to impress. Inside his flat was two rooms, a kitchen and a small room with a toilet in, the tiny bedroom laden with junk and a grubby mattress and TV in the lounge. "Do you want a drink?" He asked slightly sarcastically, dumping his holdall on the mattress and heading into the kitchen to grab a beer. 

“You aren’t going to be happy with a beer,” Jim answered as he sat down on the mattress. The stairs had been a trial and he wasn’t planning on getting up anytime soon. Jim didn’t realize how much he filtered his observations until suddenly he didn’t have that filter anymore. 

"Fucks sake, my drinking habits are none of your damn business" Sebastian snapped, suddenly fed up of this kid trying to run his life, and showing up just how much of a crap mess he'd made of running it himself. "I've got plenty of vodka for later, and you can have a damn coke if you're going to act like some spoilt brat." 

Jim scowled at the ceiling and covered his eyes from the light with the elbow of his good arm. “’M not spoiled. Or a brat.” He added as an after-thought. “You are just a grumpy old man.” Jim teased. “Will you teach me how to suck someone off properly?” 

Sebastian choked on the beer as Jim asked, not least because he was still half-hard having been pulled away from Darren. "Well I am a spoilt brat." He warned, tugging out a packet of cigarettes and sticking one in his hand, "Sebastian Augustus Moran, son of Lord Augustus Moran, and yes he was a lord. And now I'm a dirty old man." He gave Jim a leer and then lit the cigarette one handed, leaning back on his elbows on the mattress, "But I'm not about to give blowjob master-classes to college kids. Haven't sunk that low. Sides, you're not the type I look for." 

“Was your da really a lord?” Jim wrinkled his nose, trying to imagine it. “’M not doing it for you, ‘s just I need to know since this is my life now, and I’d rather not have to learn from Mags.” Jim tilted his head in a sort of shrug. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. Just remembered you were good so I figured I’d ask.” 

"Yep, really a Lord. Also, as it turns out, really a Lord with a fucking gambling problem." Sebastian sighed, downed his beer then looked sideways at Jim. "I know I don't look it now, but I was bought up in a fucking mansion. Serious top brass." Sighing, he threw the bottle into the bin in the corner then slid over onto his stomach, legs kicked back at the knee, one hand firmly placed on Jim's inner thigh as he spread his legs and pawed at his cock through the rough material. "Alright, get them down then." 

“No idiot,” Jim knocked Sebastian’s hand away. “How am I meant to learn that way? I was saying I’d suck you off and you can tell me how to do it properly.” 

Sebastian looked a little sulky, pawing at Jim's cock again. Part of him was disappointed, let down. He'd obeyed, promised not to fuck Darren, pulled away mid-fuck. And now he wasn't even allowed a reward. Scowling at his own low state he sighed, patted Jim's cock again, then threw himself backwards, leaning against the wall and spreading his legs, giving another leer as he snapped open his jeans. "Alright but I warn you, I'm no teacher. Not going to object to a blow-job though." 

Jim sat up slowly and moved so that he was a lot closer to Sebastian. “Well it can’t be worse than I am now so—I mean, I’m not—fuck.” He was tempted to bash his head against a wall until his thoughts went back in their proper order. Instead he unzipped Moran’s trousers, and freed his half hard cock. “Previous boyfriend pretty much just fucked my mouth so I don’t have any actual /skill/ outside of… you know- ‘try not to choke’ and ‘swallow.’” 

"Your previous boyfriend sounds like a cunt." Sebastian stroked his cock and then stroked Jim's cheek. "Although I bet you did look pretty. Just ... I dunno. Stroke it first, slide your tongue around, concentrate on the head. Keep your hand moving even when your mouth takes over, down to the balls, even slide a finger in if the bloke is up for that..." He hesitated and then added slightly strained, "H-has Mags given you a new script? You're not in ... trouble again are you?" 

“Don’t know. I don’t think so. I might have—lectured him a bit.” Jim started stroking Sebastian’s shaft like he was told. “I basically told him he wasn’t using his people effectively. I was high, I don’t think he was too offended. I’m doing a scene with that kid… Peter or something? He said I wasn’t in trouble for today- Darren shouldn’t have lost his temper. Or given me a fucking weapon. Idiot.” 

Mags not punishing someone was almost more suspicious and Sebastian instantly smelt a rat. Not that he could tell what Mags's long term plan was, so he just sighed, "Yeah well watch out. Peter left fucking years ago. Do you mean Paul? He's a stroppy little bottom who needs a good slap, but he'll be easy enough to fuck. Yeah ... that's good..." Sebastian looked down at Jim, feeling curious about what on earth such an innocent looking student could have hanging over him to be manipulated like this. "So your old boyfriend - don't suppose you need someone to go round and give him a slap do you?"

“Nope. He died, unfortunately. He was found floating belly up in the Thames.” Jim continued to stroke Sebastian, choosing to stare at his erection rather than meet his eyes. “Poor sod had too much to drink one night and he fell in and drowned. Tragic accident.” Jim suddenly looked up at Sebastian “I told you I can take care of myself.” And he took Sebastian in his mouth. 

"Tragic..." Sebastian murmured, feeling that Jim was trying to tell him something and forgetting it as the hot warm mouth closed around his cock, "Oh FUCK ... alright ... take it slow at first, j-just feel it, move your tongue around, k-keep your hand going, y-yeah..." he stroked at Jim's hair, hating his ex-boyfriend, and hating Mags as well, who was about to make his future even worse. “If you can stay with little twinky flicks with Paul you'll be doing well..." 

Jim pulled his mouth away, a little frustrated that he couldn’t talk and work at the same time. “I asked for Paul, you, and John. Darren comes near me again I really will cut his dick off. Mags agreed to do this on my terms as long as I cooperate.” Jim started up again with his mouth, trying to incorporate the direction Seb had just given him.

Sebastian stroked at his hair again, watching him work, watching his lips slide around Sebastian's hard and eager cock. "Jim ..." he hesitated, but fuck he'd sunk low enough to be desperate hadn't he? The way he'd reacted when Jim had barked out his last name, the name Mags never called him because Mags knew he wanted it so much. The rock hard fucking certainty that had suddenly, momentarily, flashed a secret fin in the murky waters of his life. "Jim...will you fuck me?" 

Jim looked up, shocked. Pleased, but fucking surprised that Sebastian would want to be fucked by someone like him. He flushed a bit but spoke out anyway. “I—I’ve never topped before. Are you sure?” 

Jim's stuttered out words made it slightly worse and Sebastian flushed and looked away. He'd shown the vulnerability once, but that was probably as far as he would go. "Yeah whatever..." he muttered, then tapped Jim's shoulder, "Thought you were supposed to be sucking my cock?" It came out with a flash of the old arrogance. 

“No- it’s fine.” Jim smirked a bit, normally he might have been tense but he was high as a kite and didn’t feel nervousness the way he usually would have. “I want to fuck you. Do you have lube?” 

"Course." Seb nodded towards the bathroom where a rather large and suspicious looking pump-bottle of moisturiser balanced on the edge of the cracked sink. "You think Mags never makes me go home hard?" It actually felt nice to have someone in the flat for once. Someone who wasn't stoned out of their mind (although Jim seemed half there), someone who he'd see again. Someone who didn't just want a bit of rough for excitement but would actually give him what he wanted. 

Jim tisked when he looked over and saw the moisturizer in the other room. He bit on his lip and got up slowly, careful not to jostle any of his injuries. He stopped in front of the mirror for a moment, flinching at his reflection. His nose was still swollen and there were a couple of bruises smeared across his face. His neck looked about the way it felt and Jim tried to tug his collar a bit higher. Jim grabbed a condom out of a box that sat on the counter with the lube and made his way back to the bed. “Strip, I’m not going to do it for you.” There was no way that Jim was able bodied enough to wrestle the other man’s clothes off. 

Even though he knew the order was more out of necessity than Jim's desire to give commands it still made Sebastian shiver a little, standing and quickly sliding his jeans down, tugging his hoodie over his head. When he'd finished he lay back down on the mattress, resting his head on his hands, "You must've had a chance at doing this before though, however shite your last bloke was?" Part of him was hoping the answer was no, but he knew that was a bit much to hope for.

Jim shook his head and somehow managed to get his own trousers off, even if it was anything but graceful with one hand. “There wasn’t really much before him. There were a couple guys but it was a onetime thing and I always ended up bottoming. It’s not a big deal, I liked it.” Jim gave the pump a dubious look before utilizing it and getting a good amount smeared on the fingers of his good hand. “No matter what Magnussen thinks he sees in me, everywhere else I’ve just been a bit of a nerd, never exactly had a lot of takers.” Jim smiled ironically.

Sebastian tried to hide the grin but somehow couldn't. "Well if you're playing with Paul you'd better learn, he gets stroppy when he has to top. Mags makes him do it when he whores around too much on set." He watched Jim come over, knowing it would be awkward with only one hand, but rather pleased he'd be the first. The muscles of his arse tensed gently then relaxed, as he laid out, fully naked and enjoying it - he had a good body and knew it. "Enjoy. Stretch first, but I'm guessing you know that..." 

Jim looked over Sebastian’s body, he’d seen it before of course but it seemed different now. He had a few bruises on his torso, Jim looked them over as he pressed two fingers against Sebastian’s entrance. “Why did you fight him like that? Darren?” 

"He was about to hurt you ... a-ahh ..." Seb gave a moan as the fingers pressed inside him, arching himself up to meet them and wincing just slightly at two going in at once. Still, Jim's fingers were slimmer and smaller than Darren's which was some comfort. "Couldn't fucking stand it, sitting there in the bed listening, and after he made you yelp out like that, fuck..." He sighed and banged his head against the pillow, "I'm going soft aren't I? Time was I would've watched and laughed." 

Jim smirked a bit, pleased with Sebastian's reactions. "Did you at least laugh at Darren when I got him with the wrench?" Jim continued to stretch Sebastian curiously, watching him for reactions and seeing what he liked. 

"I was pretty bloody pleased to hear it, wish you'd got his head smashed." Seb smirked, stretching a little and gasping as Jim started to stretch. This wasn't like Watson, who did it quickly and clinically to cause minimal discomfort, or Darren, who tried to cause pain. This was less certain, but somehow sweeter, little twists and turns that he thought he could get used to. "Don't be shy ... you won't hurt me."

Jim snorted, “Maybe I’m just having sympathy pains.” He joked, referencing Darren and his ‘stretching’ of Jim earlier. “Thanks by the way. Darren didn’t end up really getting anywhere but you still saved my arse.” He twisted his fingers trying to find Sebastian’s prostate. 

"Quite literally saved it." Sebastian replied grimly, "I know you're going through a lot but you damn well are a bratty little student sometimes." He gave a smirk, looking back over his shoulder at Jim, "Not that I'm complaining..." 

Jim scowled and pressed against Sebastian’s prostate in retaliation. The scowl morphed into a smirk as he watched Sebastian’s body jump like it’d touched a live wire. “Really? Because you sure sound like you’re complaining a whole lot.” 

Sebastian gave a ragged groan, jerking like a fish on a line, body shivering as Jim found the spot inside him, "A-ahhh, fuck ... one sentence of complaining the whole time I've known you? I wouldn't say that was too bad. You should've seen the way I complained when I first started working with Wayland." 

“Richard—don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t piss anyone off. Don’t be a brat. Don’t drink. Don’t smoke. Don’t lite the goddamn studio on fire—I swear sometimes I really think you /are/ my mum.” Jim was teasing, secretly pleased that anyone gave a shit enough to nag at him. And Sebastian’s advice was usually good—Jim was just really bad at following it. He added a third finger, enjoying this more than he thought he would. Part of him was feeling a bit self-conscious, was it normal to chat away like this during sex? “What have you got to complain about John over? Poor dear actually looks sorry when he fucks me.” 

"He's dull, he's boring, he's the kind of fucker I would've had a scrap with back in the army days." Sebastian grinned at Jim's litany of complaints. "Do you listen to your mum any more than you listen to me? It's amazing you've made it to the age you are." He could feel Jim's fingers getting more certain and arched in pleasure as a third finger pressed in, nicely lubed by the hand-cream. "Mmmm ... fuck yeah ... that's good..." 

Jim smiled slowly, listening to Sebastian describe John. “Oh I don’t know… I think there might actually be a temper wrapped up in there somewhere. You should have seen his face when he set my shoulder and I told him what happened.” Jim kept his light tone and easy grin, “Glad to see you are enjoying yourself.” 

"Well it's wrapped up pretty damn well." Sebastian grumbled. "Also he thinks he's superior. Which, let’s face it, he is." Sebastian scowled a little at the thought of John looking after Jim, the reminder of how much he'd failed to do it himself, and then rolled his eyes as Jim continued talking. "I've got a hot little twink with three fingers inside me, I'd have to be made of fucking stone not to be enjoying myself." 

Jim hummed a bit, considering. “I think there’s more to him than you would think. I didn’t know he was a doctor. Was he really in the military then? I thought that might be why he’s uncomfortable in the uniform. Funny, someone like that being involved in a group known for violence.” Jim’s observations came out with no filter, the drugs did horrible things to his social skills. Next thing you knew, people might actually mistake him for being /friendly./ Jim smiled at Sebastian’s admission and pressed his fingers against his prostate again. “Do you feel stretched?” 

"With those tiny fingers? Not fucking lightly." Sebastian panted, smirking through the lie and trying to remember what he knew about John Watson while getting his arse stretched open. Jim was acting light and loose, but Sebastian supposed it was the painkillers John had given him. "He was an army D-doctor ... a-ahhh ... yeah he hates the military ones, s'why M-mags makes him do them. Fuck..." his head dropped down a bit, fringe falling over his forehead. 

Jim rolled his eyes and pulled his fingers out of Sebastian, he rolled the condom on and pumped more of the moisturizer from the bottle onto his cock. “I think that’s a mistake. But it’s not my shady pornography empire so there’s little to be done. Magnussen didn’t appreciate my business advice, I don’t think.” Jim ran his hand along the curve of Sebastian’s ass, looking at the marks from his tryst with Darren earlier. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Moran.” He murmured. Jim steeled himself a bit before he slowly pushed in, trying to get used to the sensation. “Fuck—“ 

Jim calling him "Moran" was sexier than he'd ever imagined, it had been so long since any one had used the name. He gave a little shudder as Jim's hand ran gently over his arse, "F-fuck, s-stop teasing I'm not made of bloody glass... unhhhh..." He gave a contented moan as Jim pushed inside, gently tensing his arse, well aware this was Jim's first time and wanting to properly blow his mind. "Well obviously ... if I was in any way sane I'd be a hundred miles away from Mags and still running ... and he's not exactly interested in making quality porn, he's interested in c-collecting people ... oh fuuuck ..." 

He thought that might end up being the last of the conversation they would be having. Although, it might be interesting to make Sebastian continue to focus while he fucked him. Jim wasn’t sure how much he liked this position, he couldn’t see much of Sebastian’s face from here. Perhaps another time. He contented himself by watching the way Sebastian’s muscles jumped and tensed across his back and shoulders. Jim started up a slow and steady rhythm, even if he didn’t really know how to top someone he damn well knew how to move his hips. Jim’s breath caught in his throat at the feeling of Sebastian’s warmth closing around him. 

Sebastian laid his head back onto his arms and gave a contented little moan. This was probably the most gentle fucking he'd had in a long while, and it was nice not to have to worry about cameras and angles. Instead he concentrated on tensing his arse and rolling his hips back into Jim's thrusts - after all, he had had rather a long time practising being good at sex and it would be a shame not to use that. And finally Jim seemed to have stopped talking as well. 

Jim groaned a little bit, mostly because this felt fucking amazing but also his shoulder was acting up. He was up to his eye balls in pain meds but there was only so much they would block out. Jim snorted, imagining Watson’s face if he knew what Jim was doing hours after popping his arm back into place. He hadn’t taken it out of the sling, so Jim was going to count that as following instructions. He picked up his pace a bit, growing a bit more confident. 

Sebastian heard the groan and his eyes widened as he suddenly remembered that Jim was still injured, and trying to ride him with only one arm. Rolling his eyes he slid his arse down and away then rolled over, sitting up and bundling Jim into his lap, "Alright ... watch your shoulder. Don't move your arm..." he realised he was giving orders again and smirked reaching down to kiss Jim's forehead "And don't set anything on fire..." With his arms around Jim's waist he lifted him and pressed him forward, lifting his knees to spread his legs and moaning as Jim filled him.

Jim panted out a breath, trying to focus and not lose himself to need. He started moving again when they had both settled, focusing on hitting Sebastian’s prostate with his thrusts. Jim watched Sebastian’s expression greedily and he used his good hand to brace himself against Sebastian’s chest. He flicked at one of Sebastian’s nipples with his thumb a few times before rolling his thumb over the hardening flesh. “I like this better.” 

Sebastian could see that Jim had perked up a lot once they were facing each other and gave a resigned grin. Over the years with Magnussen he'd learnt to prefer face-down, it made it easier to blank out what he was doing, and to blank out the knowledge that he was doing it willingly. With Jim he ... still wasn't sure. But it was nice seeing his aroused and excited face, and of course Jim playing with his hard nipples was enjoyable. He gave a little appreicative moan of encouragement as Jim thrust towards his prostate again, "Mmm ... you're pretty good at this for a first timer..." 

Jim smiled, “I’m just a quick study.” Sebastian tightened around him when he hit his prostate again and Jim’s eye lids fell closed. He continued to move, just savoring the sensations as they came. He didn’t think he’d ever had better sex, which wasn’t saying all that much if he was honest. His relationship with Carl had been a very one sided, and hadn’t been anything to write home about. The other blokes in high school hadn’t been much better as they’d been clueless adolescents. Jim shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Still, even acknowledging his lack of experience and Sebastian’s wealth of it, Jim thought that being high was an additional improvement. It was easier to let go and just feel it when normally it was almost impossible for Jim to be able to quiet his mind enough to just relax and enjoy.

Sebastian was starting to enjoy facing Jim, watching his eyes flutter closed, and watching his body moving. Reaching forward he gently blew on Jim's nipples and then licked them, suddenly realising that he had very little idea what would turn another person on. With the twinks he did what he wanted, with Darren he clung on for the ride, at no point was he attempting anything mutual or loving. Experimentally he licked Jim's nipples again, flicking his tongue over the little pink nubs and hoping Jim liked it. 

Jim groaned as Sebastian shifted his torso unexpectedly, changing the angle a bit. Jim braced against Sebastian’s shoulder and tightened his grip when he felt the other man lick at his nipples. Jim opened his eyes and watched Sebastian carefully. “You feel good.” He said, and could have rolled his eyes at his own eloquence. 

Sebastian gave a grin, "I'm well trained." he tensed his ass up again, rippling the muscles against the cock inside him and grinning as he felt the cold hand on his shoulder tighten and tense again. Jim's eyes were dark, with the pupils almost invisible next to dark brown irises. Reaching forward Sebastian nibbled at his lower lip, "Fuck y-you really are hot. Fucking desirable." 

“One day I’ll see you off your leash,” Jim muttered. For a moment he thought Sebastian meant he felt feverish and when he realized what Sebastian really said Jim laughed. He leaned forward carefully and kissed Sebastian hard, his tongue exploring the other man’s mouth. 

Sebastian caught Jim's muttered words and for a moment almost froze. It was as if Jim's words reminded him that there still was a leash, and that Magnussen held one end of it and Seb had politely and unthinkingly wrapped the other around his neck. It wasn't something he hid from himself, but to have Jim voice it, to have some short twink in training realise made him growl under his breath. 'Tiger' Magnussen called him, a mockery of the army nickname it had been, a trained tiger, jumping through hoops. Jim's mouth pressed against his and Sebastian gripped him firmer, kissing back hard, feeling the tongue explore his mouth and sucking on it when it came into range. 

Jim moaned into Sebastian’s mouth, his heart beating painfully against his ribs. It was almost irritating, was there anything the other man wasn’t good at? He felt Sebastian’s hands tighten around him and Jim sped up his tempo, pushing his body just a bit harder than he really should be, chasing the warm feeling that he felt pooling in his gut. 

Sebastian grinned into Jim's mouth as he felt him growing more excited, making sure his hands kept Jim from bouncing his sore shoulder too much. Looking at Jim woke all sorts of desires inside him - to take, to flip him over and squeeze that hot little backside until Jim squirmed and moaned and came at his command. He wanted to lick and bite little marks over every inch of him, wanted Jim to be too marked and smugly sore for filming ... but right now he just had Jim screwing him, and that was more than enough. He nibbled at Jim's lower lip and hissed, "Fuck you, you're perfect." 

Jim’s breath caught and his eyes rolled back as he tilted his chin up at Sebastian, breaking the kiss. “Thought I wasn’t your type?” He teased. Jim groaned and knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer, it was frustrating but there was just no way he’d be able to match against Sebastian’s stamina. 

"Yeah, I thought so too." Seb smirked, bouncing him harder and tensing his arse hard. He wanted to watch Jim cum, to watch him loose it, and fall apart. He hadn't seen Jim orgasm yet, and wanted to watch, in particular he wanted to see it before Magnussen did. Like his fucks with Darren, it was another secret little thing he could take from Mags, when the man had taken everything from him already. 

Jim let out a long groan, trying to keep some of what he was feeling in. He dug his fingernails into Sebastian’s side, looking for a grip, desperately searching for something to ground himself to because he knew that he was about to fall hard into something different than anything else he’d experienced before. If he was going to fall then he wanted to control the descent as much as possible. “Shit Seb—“ Jim kept up his pace, like it was impossible for him to stop. “I’m going to—fuck…” Sebastian chose that moment to clench down around him and Jim dug his fingernails in harder, still scrambling for that control. 

Sebastian gasped, hissed and his cock twitched hard against Jim's stomach as the finger nails dug hard into his skin. For a moment he wondered, confused, was this Jim's /first/ orgasm? But it couldn't be. Grinning, he stroked at Jim's trembling sides, rippling his arse harder, "Go on ... you're going to loose it. Trick is to loose it with someone you can trust to catch you for just those few moments while you fall..." 

Jim looked Sebastian dead in the eye and he dug his nails in, “Can I? Can I trust you?” 

Sebastian felt his voice die out completely, surprised himself at the answer and just nodded, quickly attaching his lips to Jim's again in a harsh kiss. The answer was 'yes', of course, unless it came to a head between Jim and Mags, and then he wasn't sure what he'd do. 

Jim moaned harshly into Sebastian’s mouth a minute later when he came, his whole body shook and he bit down hard on his lip when that tension traveled to his injured shoulder. His vision went white with the force of his orgasm and pain, he grabbed at the back of Sebastian’s neck tightly with his good hand and braced his forehead against the other man’s shoulder as he gasped for breath. 

Sebastian's eyes widened, he'd never seen anyone come so hard before. Paul’s unconvincing moans and Darren's harsh pants didn't even come close. Wrapping his arms around Jim he held him close, wanting to feel every last shuddering moan, every gasp and shake of the hot young body. "Come on..." he gasped, voice ragged, and not even caring that he'd probably have to finish himself up in the bathroom.

Jim came down slowly, his muscles twitched occasionally as he relaxed and felt like he was able to breathe again. He chuckled lightly and mumbled, “Ow.” In a surprised tone. It didn’t really hurt anymore but it had been intense when he came. “Shit, I really clawed you didn’t I?” Sebastian wasn’t bleeding but he had puffy scratches on one side of his torso. 

Sebastian held him as he came, his breathing still harsh and ragged, stroking Jim's back and sides, really any part of him - he was soft and warm, even if a little awkwardly angular. He grinned and kissed Jim’s bottom lip as he relaxed and broke away, stroking over the lines Jim had made. "That's nothing, they'll fade. Just little kitten-stripes, trust me, I've had far worse.” 

Jim nodded, trying to catch his breath. He pulled out and tossed the condom out in the bin. He looked Sebastian up and down, enjoying the view. His eyes were drawn to Sebastian’s erection and he smirked, crawling back until he was in Sebastian’s lap. He sat straight, challenging. “Moran.” He watched the way the name jolted across the soldier’s skin. “Do you want to fuck me?” 

Sebastian watched as Jim threw the condom away, feeling oddly proud that he'd just been the first one Jim had ever fucked. Not only was it a slap in the face for Mags, it was also a little bit of his own self-worth back. His breath caught as Jim said his name again, and gave a question that was half an order. The sensible part of his brain knew that he should refuse, insist Jim slept, recovered, thought about the relationship he was getting into, but the sensible part of him was not hooked up to his libido so instead he gave a mock salute. "Whatever you like, sir." His free hand grabbed and squeezed at Jim's arse. 

Jim chucked at Sebastian’s reaction, he leaned in and kissed him, still trying to get his breath back. “Was that alright? I know you didn’t come but I only had one hand so... I hope this makes up for it.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, reaching up and covering Jim's mouth with his hand. "Shhh. Course it's alright. Do you really think I'd say no to a pretty little piece like you squirming all over my lap?" He tilted his head, considering Jim's shoulder and the best way to deal with it, he didn't want to cause him any more pain, but at the same time didn't want to demand that Jim put all the work in after the orgasm he'd just had. Picking Jim up, he deposited him on the bed with a kiss to his forehead. "Wait there ... and keep squirming that hot arse around. And keep calling me Moran." Heading to the bathroom he picked up the lube and another condom, sliding it over his cock as he came over. "Right ... now ..." He looked Jim over, smirking, "Niiiice..." 

Jim scowled as Sebastian covered his mouth with his hand. He normally would have bitten down, just to be difficult but he was oddly relaxed and couldn’t be arsed to cause trouble like he normally would have. He made a muffled noise as Sebastian tipped him back onto the bed. Jim smirked a bit when Sebastian asked to be called by his last name, he was pleased at having guessed that right. He flushed a bit under Sebastian’s gaze, feeling exposed. “Definitely your type then?” Jim asked peevishly. He wasn’t sure he’d be letting that go anytime soon. It was so much more fun holding it over the other man’s head. 

Sebastian frowned, unsure why Jim didn't seem too happy. He'd thought he was being pretty sexy, and preventing Jim from saying silly things, but apparently not, rolling his eyes he slid one lubed finger into Jim's entrance, sliding it around to stretch him. "For some reason yes." He answered, "What about me then? Or do you always go for the big rough ones?" 

Jim chucked and gasped as Sebastian’s finger breached him. Darren hadn’t been able to do as much damage as he’d have liked to but Jim was still sore from earlier. “Pretty much,” Jim answered, straining. “Usually a bit richer though.” He teased. There wasn’t anything “usual” about Jim’s dating history, he’d barely done enough to have a history at all. But he knew what he liked and Sebastian fit that pretty well—although he was quite a bit older than Jim, which was different. 

Sebastian briefly bared his teeth, mistaking Jim's gasp for arousal and pressing deeper, not liking the reminder of the wealth he'd lost. "You shoulda met me in the past; twenty years ago I'd have swept a little college twink like you right off your feet. Taken you to embassy balls in a limo with champagne on tap." He gave a rueful sigh, tapping a second finger against Jim's entrance, while stroking himself with his other hand. "I lost my virginity in an embassy ballroom." 

Jim’s breath quickened and he felt himself stirring again already. Jesus, apparently he really needed to get laid more often. “Tell me about it,” Jim whispered, curiosity always seemed to win out for him in the end, even when fighting against his arousal. He wanted to know though, wanted to hear about the extravagance and the higher life style like it was something out of a fairy tale. It was far enough away from where he was now that it practically was. 

Sebastian grinned at him, "Oh wouldn't you like to know?" he notice Jim's cock twitching and smirked. Younger men were always the same. Reaching down, he flickered his tongue at the head. "You've got to remember I was a proper private school rugger bugger back then. Big blond bully all stroppy about being dragged to embassy events by my dad. And then at one, the Iranian ambassador started groping my arse behind a pot plant and all I could think of was how much it would piss my dad off." 

Jim stretched his lower back out, careful about jostling his shoulder. His arse was still sore but not much, not with that thick blanket of warmth pressing down on him. Jim smiled contently, idly working out how long the pills were going to last and when he’d need to take more. “Did you really do it behind a potted plant?” 

Sebastian laughed, carefully sliding the second finger in, watching Jim twitch and stretch underneath him and trying to control the powerful feelings that were rising up inside him. He wanted to protect Jim, to keep him safe, to stay with him, and he was having a hard time battering down those feelings back to his usual numbness. "Nah ... he groped the hell out of me then led me into a side room. Did it over a table in someone's study. Fucking hurt, but it was worth it for his face afterwards. God I think I lost that bloke his job though." He gave a laugh, flicking his tongue at Jim's cock again. 

Jim’s made a noise low in his throat as Sebastian added another finger and stretched him further. He watched Sebastian while he worked, noting the softness in his expression. “Probably should have if he was buggering minors at work events. Doesn’t exactly send a good message.” He hissed and tried to keep his hips still as Sebastian’s tongue ran along his cock too briefly. “I didn’t think to ask, are you okay? From today? I know it was kind of a mess. You didn’t get in trouble with Mags did you?” It hadn’t even occurred to Jim to ask until now, he’d been so wrapped up in his own shit. But he still didn’t really know much about what happened with Sebastian, just that the other man had tackled Darren because he’d been hurting Jim and that he’d let Darren fuck him later as penance. Jim was still trying to wrap his head around that one. 

It took Sebastian a minute to work out what Jim meant about getting into trouble today, then it all hit him again, unpleasently. Thinking of Mags while he was with Jim wasn't what he really wanted to do and his face twisted, "Nah, not in any real trouble. Just in sorta trouble. I'm not getting Paul again for a while." he looked at Jim and then suddenly broke into a big smile, "He told me not to fuck you. Heh. he told me to go back with Darren and to leave you alone - he wants you curled up alone on a train right now." It felt liberating, even though he knew he'd be in all sorts of trouble when Mags found out.

Jim scowled thinking through Magnussen’s game. “That’s fucked up. I wasn’t—planning on fucking you. I wasn’t even planning on going home with you.” But when he walked in on Sebastian and Darren he’d known there were only a few things that could get Sebastian to drop what he was doing and leave. “I was just going in to check on you before I went home.” Jim’s face lit up in realization. “That fucker. He knew what you two were doing in there, that’s why he told me to see you. That manipulative prick.” Jim didn’t know if he should be impressed or irritated he hadn’t seen it before. To be fair to himself, he’d had a rather busy day. 

"Course he knew what we were doing in there." Sebastian scowled, his fingers twisting a bit harshly and then leaning down to suck the head of Jim's cock in apology. "We do it - do it a lot. Specially after he's had a go at us. The first time, Mags asked Darren to fuck me but after that we just got in the habit. Releases the tension." He sighed, knowing it sounded horrendously weak. "Look can I just get on with fucking you?" 

Jim tensed all over when Sebastian jabbed his fingers into his sore insides, biting down on a noise that he knew wouldn’t be sexy. He relaxed a bit as Sebastian popped the head of his cock in his mouth. The mixture of pain and then pleasure went to Jim’s head. “’S not your fault,” He mumbled and ran a hand through Sebastian’s hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I was the one that asked stupid questions.” Jim smiled encouragingly and nodded, willing to do just about anything if it meant Sebastian could shake the self-deprecation and go back to the way he’d been a minute ago. 

The little whine Jim made made Sebastian moan, sucking a little harder on the head of Jim's cock and rubbing back against his hand as it carded through the blond strands of his hair. The fingers inside Jim twisted together, stretching him slowly, knowing that he'd be big and lasting a while longer. "I did plenty wrong..." he mumbled around Jim's cock, "Disobeyed Mags, left Darren mid-fuck, 's gonna come crashing down at some point." 

“Fuck both of them. Not—literally. Just-” It was a lot harder to think with Sebastian’s mouth around his cock so he squirmed away. “If you really cared you wouldn’t have done those things. You wouldn’t have let me come back with you, you would have told me to go fuck myself in the bathroom. But you didn’t because despite all of Cam’s bragging, you’ve still got something in here” Jim tapped at Sebastian’s head lightly, “telling you to cause hell, buck the system. You aren’t an animal, you can’t actually be ‘tamed’ or whatever. And it shows. Anytime you act out, Cam comes down hard on you because you’re fighting it and that scares him. Because one day you’re going to be pushed too far and everything that you’ve tried to smother with booze and cigarettes and sex, all of your rage and indignation, is going to come roaring back. And that’s the day that Magnussen stops breathing.” 

Sebastian practically froze, his breath harsh in the silence that Jim's words left behind. Every one of them, he knew, was true, but admitting it, admitting that he'd sunk so low, particularly to Jim, was another step entirely. Slowly, his fingers pulled away, and he lifted his head, his eyes dark as they stared at Jim and then without saying a word he stood up, headed over to the kitchen, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Pushing the window open he let the cold air in as he leant his hands on the window ledge, the cigarette drooping between his fingers as he blew the smoke out. "Just get to sleep kid." He managed eventually, voice quiet. "Have a wank if you need to." 

Jim watched conflicting emotions flash across Sebastian’s face before he shut down and his expression went blank. Jim wasn’t happy with that. He hadn’t worked so hard just to be closed out now. “Finish your cigarette and come back to bed.” Jim ordered as he shivered in the cold. The temperature cleared some of the warm blanket from his mind and left him feeling stiff and sore. 

Sebastian took another deep inhale of the cigarette, trying to process the thoughts swirling around inside his head half tempted, as always, to get drunk and stuff them all back down again into the darkness. Alcohol would help, but he knew that being smashed and horny around a vulnerable student would only end badly. He gave a snarl, bad tempered at having to face this now, after so many years numb. "Shut the fuck up and get to sleep. Get the duvet over yourself, it stinks but it's warm..." 

“I don’t like repeating myself.” Jim bit out coolly, raising his voice but not matching Sebastian’s volume. “You can fucking look at me when you’re speaking to me.” Jim watched the way the muscles in Sebastian’s back tensed repeatedly, like he was fighting something back. He didn’t know the man well enough to feel confident that he was toeing the line and wouldn’t accidentally set him off. But Jim wasn’t interested in going back to what Sebastian had been before, numb and repressed. 

He was still hard, after all, and Jim's /voice/ suddenly sounded like more than just a kid looking for a bit of rough. Sebastian felt his jaw clench, his fists clench, his body twitching as various muscles tried to respond in different ways. He took another drag on the cigarette and breathed out, not looking at Jim still as he muttered, "Never used to smoke..." and then his eyes dragged around to Jim, sitting on the bed with his arm wrapped up. "Then don't fucking repeat yourself." 

Jim smiled toothily in response to Sebastian’s reply. He was pleased to have sparked /something/ even if it was just irritation. “Put that out, it stinks. Come here.” Jim tried to wrap himself in the duvet but it wasn’t easy to get it around his shoulders with only one hand. 

"Fucking make me." Sebastian growled, hanging onto the cigarette like it was his only lifeline. Walking away from the world Mags had tangled him up in meant walking into the complete unknown, not to mention the threats from solicitors and of course Magnussen himself. Watching Jim smiling was maddening and he snapped out, "You know you'll end up like this eventually, everyone does, even fucking Darren." 

Jim stood suddenly, ignoring the dizziness that almost caused him to stumble, and marched up to Sebastian before smacking the cigarette out of his hand and throwing it out the open window. “That’s what you want is it? Everyone to be dead inside too, because at least then there’s no one who cares enough to call you out?” 

Sebastian's hand was around Jim's throat before he'd properly thought about it, squeezing enough for a warning if not for any serious damage. "What the /fuck/ would you know, you're just some jumped up little fucker from Oxford, and I damn well bet you needed a scholarship to even get your grubby little boots in there." He glared at Jim, eyes dark, and then whimpered a 'fuck', pressing him tight against the kitchen wall and kissing him hard, one hand gently protecting his injured shoulder from behind. 

Jim whimpered as a hand closed around his abused throat, aggravating the bruises already there. He kept from cringing away though, as Sebastian snarled and spit in his face. Jim didn’t really listen to the words, they weren’t important. He’d learned how to block out verbal abuse a long time ago. He gasped as Sebastian suddenly caved and started kissing him roughly and they backed up until Jim was pressed against a wall. Sebastian’s warm hand buoyed Jim’s injured shoulder and he was grateful and pleased that Sebastian hadn’t lost control and forgotten himself despite his anger. Jim pressed back as much as he could with the dizzy spinning in his head. He took Sebastian’s hand and placed it on his ass for balance as he hopped up and wrapped his legs around Sebastian’s waist. From up here Jim was actually higher up than Sebastian and he used the height to his advantage. He tugged Sebastian’s hair back, exposing his neck and giving Jim better access to the man’s mouth. He kissed him hard and couldn’t hold back a noise as he plundered Sebastian’s mouth. 

Kissing Jim had been a half-desperate apology, and as slender legs wrapped around his waist Sebastian knew he was at least half forgiven. He made a grateful little noise into Jim's mouth, supporting him with both hands, one of them pressing and squeezing at his arse while slipping two fingers back in again. It felt like proper sex, the sort he hadn't experienced in front of the cameras, and he was grateful to Jim for providing it. 

Sebastian was a man with too much vitality and he kept all of it belted down tightly in an effort at control. Jim didn’t want that energy, those emotions, locked away. He wanted to see them surface. All Sebastian needed was an outlet for them and Jim was happy to fill that capacity. He tensed as Sebastian penetrated him with his fingers, not anticipating the intrusion. Jim turned his head to the side and latched his mouth onto Sebastian’s neck, sucking and biting at the skin there while he tugged the other man’s head back by the hair. 

Sebastian gave a moan, gripping Jim harder as his fingers slid and worked him open, panting into his ear, "H-heh ... d-did you think I still wasn't going to fuck you? Crazy little shit." He knew that the kisses were fast turning into something that would mark, but in wild abandon he didn't care, in any way what so ever. The fingers yanking his hair back felt good, the warm body close felt good, and he pressed a third finger inside him, using most of his energy to stop slamming Jim down before he was ready. 

“Ah—ahhh.” He bit down on Sebastian’s shoulder and tried to relax so he could take the stretch. After he’d adjusted and got comfortable Jim snorted, breaking away from Sebastian’s shoulder, fully intending to tease the shit out of the other man. “Oh? What happened to ‘Go the fuck to sleep Jim—wank off if you want to.’” Jim did a passable imitation of Sebastian’s lower voice but he still sounded fucking ridiculous. Jim smiled and rocked gently, grinding against Sebastian’s stomach. 

Sebastian moaned again as Jim bit, giving a dangerous grin as the young man teased him, "O-ohhh you better be careful you little bastard, those are dangerous words to a man about to spear you with his cock." He squeezed Jim's arse a few more times, then moved him gently into position, reaching up briefly to tap the head of his cock, "God you young things, all stamina..." He slid Jim down onto himself, despite his threats taking it slow and making sure Jim seemed reasonably happy about it. 

Jim groaned and arched his back, there was a little discomfort but mostly it just felt fucking amazing. “Says the man who—fuck, has maintained an erection for about an hour now.” Jim’s voice came out thready and strained, his body worked to keep himself braced against the wall without sliding at all. “You’re fucking crazy.” Jim breathed. 

"Hasn't been that long, don't flatter yourself." Sebastian nibbled at Jim's bottom lip and licked under his eyes, checking for no traces of salt or tears, "Mmm ... you're doing fucking amazing... god..." He gave it a few moments for Jim to adjust, holding him up and making sure his shoulder was out of danger, before he bounced him gently, and fuck it felt so good he had to quickly do it again, harder, "Nnnn ... jesus fuck this is better than any whore." 

Jim gasped for air, his whole body shook a little and he clenched down around Sebastian instinctually. Jim tisked and flicked Sebastian’s ear irritably, “Thanks so much for that glowing recommendation.” He wasn’t mad, just thought Sebastian’s lack of social awareness was hilarious. 

Sebastian moaned, not really listening, pressing Jim closer and sliding him up and down, bouncing him against his cock and moaning hard. "Oh shittttt..." He smirked as Jim looked irritated, kissing over his face and biting his earlobe, "Oh hush you sweet little innocent student. You concentrate on riding my cock and getting your hot little dick hard, leave thinking for the big boys." 

Jim rolled his eyes good naturedly, “You’ve been spending too much time with Darren.” But he rolled his hips obediently, leveraging himself up and down, trying to meet Sebastian’s thrusts. “I work in porn now, how innocent can I really be?” He thought it was incredibly funny to try and get words out of Sebastian when he was like this, mostly because his enunciation went to hell and everything he said ended up sounding like a long moan. 

"Unhhh ... you are innocent as fuck..." Sebastian gasped out, just trying to speak was a trial, and he'd never known anyone who liked speaking as much as Jim. Grabbing hard at his hip he started thrusting faster, bringing himself up to climax but also hoping to shut Jim the hell up. "Y-yyou h-hardly work in porn - h-haven't even been f-fucked on film yet ... s-shit wish I'd got at you with that paddle.... unhhh.." 

Jim laughed but didn’t ask Sebastian anymore questions, he wouldn’t be getting anything coherent out of him anyways. Instead he tried to access the warm floating feeling, let it wash over him and dull his mind enough to focus on the feeling of Sebastian’s cock in his ass and his hands on his body. He came down hard over and over again against the other man’s body, and he kissed Sebastian with his teeth and tongue. 

He could tell Jim was still part out of it with the drugs, and if he'd been thinking clearly Sebastian would have been suspicious that John had prescribed something that was keeping Jim floating for so long. He wasn't thinking clearly though, just bounced Jim over and over while the orgasm built inside him and then suddenly pinned Jim to the wall with a roar, thrusting hard and quick inside him before spilling into the condom, shaking and gasping, his hands gripping tight enough to leave finger-print bruises against Jim's arse. "Fuuuuuck!" 

Jim yelped as his shoulders slammed against the wall but he cut the noise off part way through, biting down on his mouth. Sebastian thrust up into him a few more times and Jim held him tightly as he shook from orgasm. Jim was a little worried that he’d get dropped and clung tighter with his good hand, his nails digging into the back of Sebastian’s neck in warning. Sebastian gasped into Jim’s neck and he decided he liked the feeling of his warm breath against his skin. “You alright?” 

Sebastian kept hold of Jim, but his legs were shaking badly and he slid downwards, one hand leaning against the wall, until he was crouched down far enough to let Jim drop, and then to collapse and lean his back against the wall, panting hard, trying to breathe. Coming down from his orgasm meant facing a whole load of issues, so he tried to stay there for as long as possible, breathing light, grabbing the base of his dick and nodding and gulping frantically in response to Jim's question. 

Jim hissed a bit in response to his sore ass touching the cold floor but it was a minor discomfort. His shoulder throbbed angrily and Jim decided he’d never let Doctor Watson find out about all of the stress he’d put on it. Somehow he didn’t think he’d find much sympathy from him. Jim leaned against the wall next to Sebastian and glared a bit at his erection. He knew it wouldn’t just go away on its own so he took himself in hand and slowly jerked himself off. He was used to it, Carl couldn’t be arsed if Jim didn’t orgasm while they had sex (which honestly wasn’t very often) so if Jim was still hard by the end he’d usually find himself in the shower trying to get off quickly before climbing back into bed, Carl would already be passed out. 

Sebastian looked at him slightly muzzily, frowned and then slapped Jim's hand away, "Ah fuck off, c'mon, who do you think I am?" Reaching across he gently stroked Jim's cock, sliding a thumb along the top and then stroking up and down, feeling his brain slot back into place as he came down and trying to block out the little litany of "fuckfuckfuck" running behind his eyes as he thought of everything; from the bite marks on his neck to the fingermarks on Jim's arse, that would irritate Magnussen. 

Jim gasped and smacked the back of his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his mouth. “S-sorry. I tried. You don’t have to, I can just finish up in the shower if you’d like.” 

Seb gave a chuckle, shaking his head and leaning forward to lick at Jim's earlobe and whisper in his ear, "You know if you’re ex wasn’t dead I'd strangle him myself. Don't be sorry you silly little shit - now be a good student and cum for me nicely." He bit down on Jim's earlobe again and moaned gently. 

Jim groaned and tried not to remember how Carl had looked up at him in those final moments, the panic in his eyes right before they went glassy and dull. “Fuck,” he muttered unhappily and angrily pushed the image away. He opened his eyes and watched Sebastian, focusing on his big hands and the way they looked while wrapped around his cock. After a minute he wasn’t able to contain himself any longer and he came over Sebastian’s hand, the other man’s words whispered in his ear. 

Sebastian gave him a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing his fallen shirt and wiping his hand on it, then dropping it in Jim's lap for him to wipe up. Pushing himself up with a groan he headed into the kitchen, pouring himself a small glass of vodka and then after a quick think pouring out a glass for Jim as well. Putting it next to Jim he grabbed a robe from the bedroom that looked suspiciously like it had been stolen from set and flopped down onto the mattress, raising his glass to Jim, "Well. Here's to everything we just fucked up. And thank you." 

Jim rolled his eyes and smiled but knocked back his drink anyway. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. Is that why you’ve been all moody or are you always this pessimistic after you come?” 

Sebastian flipped him off, patting the mattress next to where he was slumped, "C'mon, I'm guessing you're spending the night here, as I'm not about to drive you up to Oxford. And of course I'm bloody worried, never disobeyed Mags this badly before."

“Dunno…” Jim trialed off and finished his vodka and crossed to the bed before continuing. “I hit him yesterday. Like actually hit him. And sure my arm’s half broken but ‘s not so bad. Disobedience isn’t as bad. He probably suspects that you would go against him anyway, that’s why he told you not to in the first place… cause he knew you wanted it.” 

"I wish I could've seen that." Seb smirked, switching the TV on and then throwing the remote into Jim's lap, not really caring what he wanted to watch. It was still just early evening and he was slightly confused as to what to do next. Staying in watching crap TV with a bottle of vodka didn't really seem appropriate entertaining, on the other hand, Jim seemed injured and pretty out of it still, certainly not up for clubbing. "Want to ... go anywhere?" 

“’M hungry. Fuck.” Jim tipped over into Sebastian’s lap, which was his /intention/ of course. He smiled goofily as Sebastian’s face spun above him. “Order in though. I’m knackered.” 

"What, you thought I was about to cook for you." Sebastian couldn't help smiling at Jim's head in his lap, "Fuck you, lightweight. Pizza or Chinese, what do you reckon? I'm not giving you a curry, might want to fuck you tomorrow morning as well." 

“Feed me and you can do whatever you want.” Jim frowned, trying to make a decision. “Pizza’s cheaper,” he said and he picked at a string dangling from Sebastian’s robe. “’M not a light weight. I mean, /I am/. I don’t actually weigh much. But I’m /not./” Jim really wasn’t though! There was no way he’d be able to keep up with someone like Sebastian who probably poured vodka in his breakfast cereal or something, but Sebastian was just crazy like that. Jim had never felt like this, and never so fast either. He remembered the medication he took and looking back, he probably shouldn’t have mixed liquor with whatever the fuck those little pills were. There wasn’t any point getting a headache over it though, Jim just wouldn’t drink anymore. 

Sebastian chuckled, reaching for this phone and dialing, stroking Jim's hair with the other hand. "Look you've broken your arm, taken painkillers, had mind-blowingly amazing sex, courtesy of yours truly, and then washed it down with a vodka. Stop trying to make sense and stop talking. And I'll stop thinking about facing Mags tomorrow, alright?" 

Jim stretched out and got comfortable, settling his head against Sebastian’s thigh. “Just don’t tell him, stupid. Why’s he got to know?” Jim thought it was rather a hopeless argument, Sebastian would just /look/ guilty, he wouldn’t be able to help himself. 

"Fuck I'm not going to tell him!" Sebastian shook his head at Jim and then patted Jim's head again to get him to quieten down as the man on the other end ordered, "Meat feast and a ..." he looked down at Jim and decided he was in no state to think sensibly, "Margerita. And two bottles of coke, yeah that’s the one." He flipped the phone off and then stroked Jim's hair again. "He'll know. He always does. But I won't tell him, wouldn't drop you in it like that."

Jim hummed and blinked heavily, watching the TV but not really comprehending what he was looking at. “Doesn’t matter really, he never told /me/ I couldn’t fuck you. Probably because he knew I’d go out and do it just to spite him. ‘S still weird though. He doesn’t think Darren’s dangerous to you, but I am? That’s almost funny it’s so fucked up.”

"It's nothing to do with /danger/ you twat ... it's manipulation. After I'd been used he wanted me to hook up with some big bruiser as a consolation prize - he wanted that to be my go-to to come down from the shit he gave me. Fuck knows maybe he wanted us to be lovers, or maybe he knew we wouldn't. But with you - he wanted you to be alone, and in pain, and maybe thinking about what a relief it was for him to just be happy with you making twink flicks." Sebastian poured another shot of vodka. "Fuck knows what he thinks, but he's using and moulding you every second he's in contact with you, and even most of the time he /isn't./" 

“That was really smart Seb.” Jim couldn’t keep a straight face anymore and started laughing. “Sorry! It’s good, and useful I just can’t—fuck. Make sense of it right now. Later when my brain doesn’t feel like soup. I’ll absolutely remember.” Jim quieted down and settled against Sebastian’s leg again. “He’s really smart you know. Cunning. I can usually run circles around people, more or less, but he’s… thorough. He’s very good at what he does.” 

"He's the fucking best at what he does." Sebastian replied darkly, still patting and petting Jim and just hoping that when the kid came down and woke up he wouldn't be too horrified at what they'd done...


	5. The Morning After Pill

Jim groaned and rolled over as he woke up the next morning. /Fuck/ he hurt. It felt like his whole body ached in some way or another and his head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it while he slept. God and his /shoulder./ It felt hot all over and it ached with sharp bursts of pain running down his nerves anytime he moved it. He knew that he hadn’t rebroken it but last night had been fucking stupid, as gentle as Sebastian had tried to be. He hadn’t felt this shitty in a while, not since Carl passed. Jim sat up, trying not to shift the bed too much and biting down on any pained noises so as not to wake Sebastian. He wobbled on his feet, hissing at the bright light streaming through the window they hadn’t bothered to close last night. Jim checked his phone first thing automatically and saw that he had a missed message from Magnussen. “Fuck’s sake!” He whispered irritably as he opened the message. 

I've heard rather a nasty rumour about you and my pet Tiger, Richard. –CAM 

You know how rumours are. Usually spread by little people feeling jealous and insecure. JM 

I wouldn't call Darren that little. Please don't tell me you've damaged my Tiger, and bring him in for work this morning. –CAM 

Darren is about as small a person as it gets, don't pretend you don't know it. JM

Fuck do I care about his work schedule? JM

He was ridiculously easy to tame, that is true. But unless you want to let him loose on your Sebastian I'd bring him in nice and cleaned up. I'll give you some more painkillers to get you through next week. -CAM

It's his business if he comes into work or not, but he mentioned going in yesterday. You can probably expect him. JM

How generous. What's the catch? JM 

There's no catch, I want you to be well enough to earn me some money next weekend. There's certainly an exchange - get my Tiger here on time or he'll end up with a few stripes that won't come off. -CAM

Fine, I'll be there. Anything else? JM

Just make sure he's there. And unmarked. Despite how tempting it is. -CAM

Alright, I won't do anything to him this morning. JM

Good boy. He's already in enough trouble for going home with the wrong whore. -CAM

Right. If it makes you feel any better he probably kept me from being kidnapped off the tube and murdered in the woods or something. But I can see how that might have been in your favor. JM

You would not have been kidnapped by anyone you silly boy you were followed home. -CAM

Careful CAM, people will say we're in love. JM

I doubt anyone would make that mistake. Now wake him up and get ready. I hope your shoulder doesn't hurt too badly. -CAM

Your concern is appreciated, as always. We'll be there. JM

Jim threw his phone on top of his bag angrily and dug through it, looking for the jar Magnussen gave him yesterday. He wasn’t in any mood to fuck around so he grabbed four pills from the jar and swallowed them dry, grimacing at the taste. He tucked the pot back in his back and stood up, smiling despite himself, at the picture Sebastian made all tangled up in the blanket. “Sebastian? Sebastian. Time to go in for work. Come on, we need to shower.” 

Sebastian groaned, rolled over and banged his head against the pillow, frowning and reaching out to try and grope at Jim, "Unh ... why did you move ... you were warm..." Sighing he rubbed his eyes, giving Jim a tired grin. While he would've loved to have a quickie with a whole day of filming it was probably best not to waste his energy or stamina. "Alright ... fuck are you going in for? It'll look suspicious as hell if we both troop in together?" 

“Cam already texted. Told me he wants me to come in to get my shoulder looked over. Said he knew I was here already because he had me followed last night. Not totally sure I believe it, but I didn’t technically confirm anything anyway.” Jim set about throwing their things together before the shower, waiting for Sebastian to get up properly. 

Sebastian woke up at that, growling and feeling his good mood rapidly drop away. "Shit. No way anyone was following us. I always check. Bet he just took what Darren said and made a lucky guess." He was mostly convinced he was right and looked at Jim's crumpled clothes with an awkward face, "Ergh, sorry kid. You can change at home I guess, none of my stuff will fit you." 

“It’s fine. I’ll borrow a zip up hoodie if you have one. Easier to get on and off with the sling.” Jim would just wear the same trousers, he wouldn’t be at the studio very long hopefully. “Come on, help me get this damn thing off.” Jim said, indicating the sling. He moved to the bathroom where he’d be able to see the damage better in the mirror. 

Sebastian trailed after him, undoing the sling with the practiced air of someone who'd done it before and then carefully helping Jim tug on a clean hoodie. "You look alright. Bit ... battered, but nothing the police will stop you for." Switching on the water he got into the small shower, looking over his body for his own damage, rather annoyed that other than the slight hickey marks there was nothing. "You better get better at marking your possessions." 

Jim laughed, unzipping the hoodie and shucking it off so that he could shower. He felt disgusting and wanted a good scrub before he went in today. He stepped in under the spray and bristled as the water pressure ran over his bruises. “Mags is already going to be upset about the ones I did leave, he told me not to mark you up for the scene today. If anyone asks, just tell them last night you had the best whore of your life. Cam will get the joke.” Jim said bitterly, reaching out for the soap and scrubbing it over himself while he tried to keep his bad arm as still as possible.

"I've had whores. You're not a whore." Sebastian said quietly, taking the soap off Jim and running it all over and around his skin, grinning as it gave him the chance to feel all over the lovely firm little body. "Mmm ... wouldn't mind another evening though..." it was said with a hint of regret, he still wasn't sure whether Jim really did see him as anything more than a quick bit of rough to get him through porn filming. 

“You say that now, not sure you’ll feel the same way after Darren takes yesterday out on your hide.” Jim relented though and pressed the top of his head into Sebastian’s chest. “I told you, feed me and I’m yours.” He joked. “But really though, don’t fuck Darren anymore. Outside of scenes I mean. I don’t share with people I actively dislike that much. Besides, it’s no great loss. If he can’t keep hold of someone my size he’s pretty ineffectual as a dominant anyway.” 

Sebastian blinked, not sure whether he'd just taken in a stray or been adopted himself, either way it was pretty surreal. "You want me to refuse Darren?" The phrase, "But CAM wants-" surfaced in his mind but he really, really couldn't bring himself to be quite pathetic enough to say it. "Sure, he was getting old anyway." It would be a wrench, he knew, there was something strangely soothing about Darren's brand of muscular pain, but for now he was happy to promise, half convinced that Jim's infatuation wouldn't last forever. "He'll get me during shoots though, I'm afraid." 

Jim nodded, “Him and everyone else. No point in either of us getting snippy about who’s fucking who during scenes. Fuck anybody you like on your own time, I just don’t like him. Also I take joy in denying him something he thought belonged to him. Idiot.” Jim was still pleased that he’d earned enough of Sebastian’s regard to warrant any concessions at all. “Wash my hair?” Jim turned and leaned his back against Sebastian’s chest, mindful of the heavy bruising on the back of his shoulder. He wasn’t as sore anymore and he thought the drugs might be kicking in. 

Sebastian grabbed the shower gel and squirted it over Jim's hair, suddenly wishing he still did have a big house to take Jim to - all opulence and richness and fancy big baths big enough to have sex in. There wasn't even any way he could save, the solicitors took care of that. Sighing, he rubbed the gel into Jim's hair, watching it foam up. "Not sure I /belong/ to Darren ...” the implication that he now belonged to Jim pleased him, although he gave a short laugh at the thought he was so excited about being 'owned' by a short injured Irishman. "Oh fuck ... please don't think I was always this pathetic, i used to run a regiment." 

Jim scowled despite how good the fingers through his hair felt. “He called you a dick cosy and said you were his whore. You don’t actually belong to him, but he sure thinks you do. He’s in for a rude awakening either way.” Jim turned and looked at Sebastian in confusion, “I don’t think you’re pathetic. How long have you been doing this? A long time, right? And you’ve still managed to keep this” Jim tapped the side of Sebastian’s head, “on mostly straight. I’ve only been doing this two weeks and I already practically want to kill myself. You aren’t pathetic, you’re—durable. Adaptable. It’s fascinating.” 

Sebastian looked down at him, then sighed, filled the soap holder with water and dumped it on Jim's head. "Might have been better if I had killed myself. This isn't adapting, this is dying in slow motion. Look at me - living in this shit-hole, bending over at CAMs orders, every spit of money I own goes off to paying out debts which I didn't even run up." He patted down Jim's hair, managing a small smile, "But yeah, Darren will be pissed and it'll be a finger up for Mags. Darren's the one whose meant to be holding the other end of the lead, not you."

Jim looked up, sighing. “Darren doesn’t hold shit and neither do I really. Magnussen is the only one with any real power. Least with me you know I’m not going to throw you under the bus to save my own arse like Darren.” 

"If the only thing keeping your arse safe is me going under a bus for fucks sake don't hold back." Sebastian was rather enjoying washing Jim's hair, but they were also starting to run late so he switched off the shower with a sigh, grabbed a hand towel and started to dry it. "You've got a whole life ahead of you, I've already pissed most of mine up the wall, why do you think I smoke? The thought of living to fucking eighty would kill me." He grabbed a bigger towel and wrapped it around his waist, trailing out to the lounge and pulling some reasonably-smelling clothes out of the bedroom.

Jim didn’t bother fitting his arm through the sleeve of the hoodie, just put it back in the sling and tugged the zipper up over it. He went in the other room and pulled on his jeans and shoes too, it’s a challenge but he did okay. “Mags doesn’t seem to mind having the shit beat out of you, he can’t seem to manage that with me. Besides, I do enough fucking up on my own that. Fact, I can’t think of a single time you’ve actually gotten me in trouble. This is going to be… what? Third time you’ve been blamed for something I’ve done. That’s got to be some kind of record.” 

Sebastian grinned, pulling his own clothes on and then patting Jim on the head, "Yeah, complete trouble-maker you are. He's being careful with you because you're smart - he can't trap you as easily as he did with me. Also I think he likes watching Darren get hit with a wrench, not many people can do that. Let's hit the jeep."   
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The trip to the studio was uneventful and they spent the time idly chatting. Jim tried to think through and plan for his face off against Magnussen today but his mind wasn’t running with its usual speed and precision. Jim blamed it on the fact that he hadn’t had any coffee this morning. If Jim was ever going to stop playing defensively and actually try and get a leg up on Mags he’d need to pick Sebastian’s brain further for everything he knew about the studio, how it ran, all of Magnussen’s tactics, and everything he knew about the other people there. It was always good to know what your resources were. Jim knew one of the major reasons that Cam wanted to keep him isolated was because he wanted to control what information Jim had. 

He was feeling better after his meds, nothing at all like how he’d felt this morning- like that tin man from the Wizard of Oz, all dented and joints rusted together. The shower had done wonders. His arse was sore from yesterday but it wasn’t a totally uncomfortable feeling, it was just enough that he was privately glad he wouldn’t be expected to scene today. The bruises on his face had been light and today they were almost gone, the swelling in his nose had gone down considerably and he actually sounded mostly normal when he spoke. His throat and shoulder were still pretty marked up and they hurt but Jim thought even that would improve after a few days.

The jeep pulled up to the car park and Jim got out and stretched a bit. He knew he should probably wait and come in a bit later, after Sebastian so it wasn’t quite so obvious they came in together but he couldn’t be arsed. Magnussen already had a good idea what had happened and there was no point trying to fool someone with that level of intelligence, not when they’d already left him plenty of clues. Oh Jim would still deny it, of course. Getting Sebastian in further trouble wasn’t anything he was interested in doing. He was slightly nervous for the other man and the scene he’d be doing with Darren today. Jim wasn’t sure if threatening Darren would help or if it would just encourage him to act worse. If he was honest with himself, warning the other man was just an excuse so that Jim’d have a reason to make his life miserable when he acted out later. He resigned himself to being as well behaved as possible and just rolling with the punches as they came. If Darren couldn’t be trusted to keep his hands to himself, well… Jim didn’t think he really /needed/ hands anyway. 

Sebastian got out of the jeep, glancing into the studio to check that Magnussen wasn’t looking their way before ruffling Jim's hair and planting a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Alright, I'll go shower and I suspect I'll need to clean out. No way I'm topping after that little stunt. You go see Mags then and find out what he wants from you..." He gave Jim an anxious glance as they walked in, quickly hiding it. Darren was scowling on the warehouse set, looking up and then looking away sullenly as Sebastian entered. 

John was there, with his usual slightly nervous and slightly resigned look, and hurried over to Jim, "Alright, into the office. I'll check out your shoulder and see if it's doing alright."

Jim nodded happily and reached out to grab Sebastian’s wrist, “Don’t let him push you around, yeah?” He said, indicating Darren with his chin. 

"I have to do what I need to on set..." Sebastian muttered back, frowning a bit, looking confused. Darren was looking seriously sulky, which meant that whatever was going down today didn't mean free range on Seb's arse. 

Magnussen stalked over looking at them both and giving a faint smile, "So the two little lovebirds are here? And on time. Richard - into the office, let John sort you out. Sebastian, wash and change, no need for enema. Script is with the camera-man. Go." 

Jim raised his eyebrows and looked over at Sebastian questioningly. “Guess he was in more trouble from yesterday than we thought.” Jim let go of Sebastian’s wrist and made his way to Cam’s office with John. “Sorry you had to come in again, I know today’s supposed to be your day off. Thanks by the way, for doing this. It helps not having to make up a story to someone in A&E.” 

"It's fine I ... rearranged my plans." John said in a slightly tight voice, looking up at Magnussen who had lost the smile but simply gazed down at them both. Quickly John looked away, turning to Jim and undoing the knot, frowning as he noticed it had changed. "You took this off for a shower? It would have been better not to ..." he pressed cool light fingers over the bruising, his frown deepening, "It's ... better but it's been under quite a lot of strain. You really need to rest it." 

Behind them there was a quiet, "Is that so?" From CAM.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jim said, ignoring Magnussen’s smart remark. “I haven’t had any problems with it really, besides this morning when I woke up but it’s fine now, doesn’t hurt any.” Jim worked at keeping his expression clean of any defensiveness he was feeling, being checked over with Magnussen in the room. 

"Right..." John looked as if he didn't fully believe him, but also as if he wanted to leave as soon as possible. "I've also been asked to check your, uh, your rectal area after what Darren did to you yesterday." Now John was determinedly not looking at him. "If you could lie on the table on your front I'll just do a quick examination. What happened yesterday was unacceptable, and won't happen again." The words were parroted, and it was clear they came from Magnussen. From the studio, Darren gave a roar of pain. 

He turned to Magnussen in shock. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jim bit out sharply, unnerved by Darren’s noise. “I’m fine. No blood, not even sore. He barely touched me.” 

Magnussen raised an eyebrow. "Brook, I am not having my actors potentially injured on set. You will have all week to heal, which I suggest you do in /Oxford/ where your shoulder is likely to face less ... /strain/. Next week you will be working with Paul, on a short little mostly scriptless piece of fluff. Before you do this, I would like my Doctor to check that you're not going to get any unwanted infections. Get on the table." 

“This is a fucking farce,” Jim hissed out, bristling with indignation. “You couldn’t care less if anyone gets hurt, or was yesterday supposed to be a walk in the park? You got my shoulder fucked up in the first place, what exactly am I being punished for? I haven’t done anything wrong.” Jim wasn’t going to go quietly, Magnussen would have to do worse than that before Jim would get on the fucking table. 

"He's not punishing you..." John managed quietly before Magnussen held up a hand to interrupt him. 

"Weyland? You may leave." John looked like he wanted to ask a question, but eventually just gave Jim a pat on his good shoulder, grabbed his bag, and left. Magnussen walked around the desk, sitting down in his chair and tugging open the drawer without looking at Jim. Taking out another pot of the pills he slid it across the table. "Can you blame me for being curious? For wanting to know what a boy like you took from my Tiger? What you gave him, what you promised him, and what you delivered." Watery eyes looked back up at Jim. "Take those when you feel pain. And try to stop getting poor Sebastian into trouble." 

“If you really cared about keeping him out of trouble you would have told me he was off limits instead of giving the two of us conflicting instructions.” Jim reached out and grabbed the bottle before Magnussen could take it back. “You can be curious all you like, doesn’t mean it’s any of your business. What I do and who, if anyone, I fuck outside of this place is on my time.” 

Magnussen looked at him, eyes briefly narrowing and then leaned back in the chair. "You are very insubordinate for a silly boy with no power. Go. I'll see you next week. Fuck who you like, but make sure your shoulder is better." 

Jim smirked, “I’m told it’s part of my charm.” He stood and placed the bottle of pills in his bag. “I’ll take care of it, I’m not interested in being in pain any longer than necessary.” With that he ducked out of the office and looked across the studio to the set Sebastian was working on. “Shit.” 

Darren was bent over the table, arse in the air, grabbing at the table and yelping while Sebastian practically hammered a wide silver plug inside him, growling insults all the time. It didn't even seem to have a plot, the website featured it as just two big naked guys taking it in turns brutalizing each other. Today it was clearly Darren's turn to take it, his head pulled back by the hair, one ankle chained in place to stop him moving. 

Jim stood and watched for a few minutes, taking on the scene impassively. At one point Darren looked up and Jim made sure to smile and wink at him before turning and leaving out the front door. 

While it had been fairly fun getting a go at Darren, Seb hadn't enjoyed it as much as usual; too jumpy about not yet being punished, and too wary of the promise he'd made to Jim. And once he saw the script for Wednesday, he realised just why Jim had been let go so early...  
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	6. Stinging Nettles

Kid, I fucked up. Sorry. -SM

What did you do? JM

Slept with Darren. Off-set. Fuck I know you told me not too it just got... complex. -SM

Explain. JM

Fuck I dunno - I was hurting he was there we fucked alright? What you think I'm proud of it? -SM

Did you tell him no? JM

I dunno. Probably. Initially. -SM

And he fucked you anyway? JM

I mighta sorta asked him to. -SM

Fucks sake why the hell do I owe you anything anyway! -SM

Shit, I'm so sorry. -SM

Alright then, there's not anything I can do about that, is there? JM

No. -SM

I'm, uh, I'm on the train. To Oxford. –SM

It's a lovely town I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. JM

Plenty of clubs to pick someone up at. JM

'S a city. 'M not out clubbing I can barely walk. -SM

I'll ... uh ... get myself into a hostel when I get there. -SM

Fucks sake just come over. Magdalen College, St. Swithuns building room IV09. JM

T-thanks. Do, uh, do you have money to pay a taxi? -SM

I'll pick you up at the station. JM

Sure. And thanks. –SM   
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Jim stood outside the station entrance waiting with a cab. He’d walked to save on fare, it wasn’t far at all but he realized that Sebastian was likely to be in shitty condition if he couldn’t make the fifteen minute walk. It was already dark out and he leaned back against the cab with his arms crossed, waiting quietly. 

Sebastian limped out of the train, with the holdall he'd bought into work that afternoon He felt light-headed, a bit strange, straightening up and trying to walk normally when he saw Jim. There were scratches from tree-bark along his face, and he managed a half grin. "Hey kid. Thanks... I." He couldn't really think of anything worthwhile to say so settled for another "Thanks." 

Jim looked Sebastian over but there wasn’t much he could tell about the other man’s injuries when he was still dressed. He was limping badly and he had scratches on his face… not from anything sharp like fingernails… He nodded in response and opened the cab door, climbing inside. “Magdalen please, take us to the night gate.” He said just loud enough so that the cabbie could hear him. 

Sebastian collapsed down gratefully into the cab with a small whimper as he landed, feeling shitter than ever now he was actually sitting next to Jim. He hadn't really thought, filled with pain and self-loathing he'd just wanted to head to the only person who had made him feel marginally better. He kept quiet in the cab, shifting a little to ease the ache. 

Jim got out as the cab pulled up to the college entrance, he turned and paid the cabbie, frowning a bit at his practically empty wallet. It was fine, he’d gotten by on less. He stepped up to the small wooden door tucked into the high stone walls and pulled out his key. “Be quiet and try not to look too suspicious, alright? We aren’t really supposed to bring other people back to the dorms.” The door opened with a low creak and Jim held it open for Sebastian and made sure the door was closed tightly behind them. He led them passed a building covered in jasmine vines and under an archway out of the stone building. This led to the quad and they walked along side it until they came to the door to the St. Swithuns building. Jim used another metal key to get past the heavy wooden doors and led them up a series of stone steps. The steps had wear on them from thousands of students’ tread and water damage from when the showers regularly flooded the stairwell. Jim was glad there weren’t any puddles or slippery steps tonight, Sebastian barely made the walk as it was. They came to his door and Jim checked the open stairwell and short hall to make sure that no one was out to see them before he unlocked his door and ushered Sebastian inside.

Sebastian headed up the stairs as fast and quietly as he could, slipping into the room and leaning heavily against the wall. His breath came in little gasps as he calmed himself down, eventually opening his eyes and saying calmly but firmly, "What. The hell. Did you do. To Mags. That was fucking agony." 

Jim scowled and opened his mini-fridge, grabbed a cold bottle of water and lobbed it to Sebastian. “I haven’t done anything. I haven’t heard from him all week.” 

"Well he's not pissed at me." Sebastian couldn't help snapping a little as a cold bottle of water hit him in the shoulder. Scowling he slid down the wall, folding up in a little heap at the bottom, "'S fine. I'll sleep here then get out of your hair. Four days before fucking up, that's a bloody record." 

“No, get up. Get on the bed.” Jim indicated the tiny twin with a thin plastic covered mattress. It wasn’t great but it was what the school provided. It was made up neatly with a single pillow at the head. He opened up the small hidden cabinet built into the window seat and dug out his med kit. “Strip. And drink your god damn water.” 

Sebastian glared at him, picked up the water, dropped it again and unzipped his hoodie. "Fuck that, I need a vodka." The hoodie was still protectively wrapped around his body. "We did an outdoor shoot." 

“Well I hope you can manage your way to the Sainsbury’s across the bridge because I don’t keep booze in here.” Jim opened up the kit on the end table next to the bed and turned on his reading lamp to give him some extra light. “Sorry, was I unclear or are you just shite at following directions? Get on the bed.” 

"Fuck you..." Sebastian mumbled, still sitting in a defiant little pained heap at the end of the bed. "Fuck you and fuck Mags. He's just some poxy two-bit director who likes fucking around with other people's lives and you're a stupid little whore who's fucking up his life by playing at being a porn star. 'S that why you went to my place? Was it fun, hanging out with a bit of rough and giving out orders? Don't blame you, I know the fucking feeling, remember I wasn't always this..." 

Jim wouldn’t dignify that with a reply, just watched Sebastian coolly until he was finished. He got out a cotton ball, doused it in hydrogen peroxide and pressed it hard against the scratches on Sebastian’s face. 

Sebastian glared at him, twitching and letting out a whimper as the peroxide pressed at the grazes covering his face. Looking slightly shameful he peeled off the hoodie. He'd been beaten, clearly, with branches and switches, the lines marked over his chest and back, with bruising around his nipples. Standing up he pushed his jeans down, revaling similar damage along with bruising and blood around his arse, collapsing face down on the bed in silence. 

Jim couldn’t quite control his expression, but kept his head cool as he assessed Sebastian’s injuries. “Do you want to use the shower or have me clean you up? I’ll warn you, the shower’s up another level, which means more stairs and its cold as fuck in there until you really get the water going. Old stone buildings means there’s not much in the way of heating.” He was rambling so he bit down on the rest. 

"I'm not fucking moving." Seb muttered, his own shame and disappointment at himself turning into a sort of sulky anger. Jim's expression was hard to take - after all he was meant to be the strong and powerful one, not the one that needed looking after. "It looks worse than it feels, least the nettle rash went down." 

Jim tisked but walked to his in-room sink and filled a small bucket with soap and warm water. He grabbed a rag and sat on the bed. He dunked the flannel in the water and wrung it out a bit before starting on Sebastian’s shoulders. “This might sting. Tell me what happened.” 

Sebastian's shoulders twitched and flinched as the water fell across the cuts and grazes and he sneered at the question, his fists gripping at the sheets underneath him, "Why... you wanna jerk off to it?" 

“Yup, and I’m going to come all over your back and rub my semen in your wounds.” Jim said in the driest tone he could muster. He turned his head to look Sebastian in the eye, “Get the fuck over yourself.” Jim went back to cleaning dirt and blood off his back. 

Sebastian's breath caught in his throat at the words, and then he started to laugh, tired and exhausted. "Yeah, yeah, cheeky little fuck. It was an outdoor scene - lots of branches, switches and nettles. Darren tied me round a tree and had a damn field day with it, making up for last Sunday. They cut me down eventually, Darren helped me into the showers." He glared at the far wall, "Wrapped an arm round me, all the usual 'well fucking done soldier' then we rutted around on the tiles for a bit. Then he kicked me out so I just walked to the nearest underground station and got the next train. Knew I'd get to Oxford eventually. Knew I'd have to tell you..." 

Jim soaked the towel again and started on Sebastian’s arse, going more carefully here. “Well, Magnussen got what he wanted anyway. He’ll be pleased. I’m sure I’ll get a text within the next few hours.” 

Sebastian felt something leaden drop into his stomach at Jim's words, and as the other started running the towel coldly, clinically and mildly uncomfortably along the curve of his ass. He had fucked up. Not just with Jim, but with Magnussen as well, and he wondered partly whether he was just a piece being played between the two of them. Giving a little growl he turned onto his back with a hiss of pain, grabbing Jim's wrist and twisting it almost to the point of breaking. "Magnussen got what he wanted" - he mimicked in a cruel mockery of Jim's Irish lilt, "Is that the main thing that fucking matters here? That bastard? You told me not to fuck Darren, and now you're acting like it doesn't fucking matter. Just bloody well get it over with already." 

Jim almost cried out but experience told him not to and so he didn’t, just held very very still, trying not to pull away like he wanted to. “I’m sorry,” it was out before he could hold it back and Jim ducked his head, staring at the floor. 

Sebastian let go of his wrist in shock at that, staring at him and properly seeing him - not another person trying to control him, not someone who would punish him for breaking a law - and however much he wanted that punishment, right now Jim was not going to give it. Jim was just a student - intelligent certainly, and quick, stubborn and sneaky, but still only a year or so away from being a teenager. "Oh fuck." He managed, before very gently pressing two fingers under Jim's chin and giving him a gentle kiss on the lips, with bruised and bitten lips of his own. 

He felt Sebastian’s mouth on his and Jim wanted to pull away but instinct held him there, compliant and still. Jim’s wrist throbbed but he knew better than to show it hurt him. “Sorry,” he spoke against Sebastian’s lips automatically. 

Sebastian pulled back the instant he heard the word again, confused and slightly frightened, which was quickly turning to anger as he had no idea what to do in this situation. He stared at Jim in confusion and bafflement. "What the hell are you sorry for? I'm the one who went and slept with Darren. I'm the one who fucked up with Mags. And I'm the one expecting you to burst into my life like a fucking avenging angel and give me the right orders to get away from Magnussen." he could feel the certainty he'd had the last time they'd fucked slipping away. In Seb's flat it had been different, all comfortable and hot and grubby. But in this place, with the architecture reminding him of home, and making Jim look even more like a schoolboy, it was all wrong. 

Jim felt Sebastian’s words settle on him like a heavy weight across his shoulders. He wasn’t sure—how was he supposed to… “I can’t,” he started helplessly but he shook his head a bit, trying to clear the earlier panic from it. “I can’t—do this right now. One thing at a time.” Jim refocused on cleaning Sebastian up and picked up the flannel with his last not-so-good-anymore shaking hand. The wrist was red and angry, it would probably bruise a bit. Jim hoped it would clear up in time for filming this weekend. He stared on washing Sebastian’s chest as it was immediately in front of him. 

Sebastian looked down at Jim' wrist, staring slightly dully as Jim washed the scratches and grazes on his chest. "What did you do." He said eventually, voice soft. "What's Mags got you over a barrel for? Because you shouldn't be involved in all this shit, you shouldn't have big crazy porn starts covered in switch-marks visiting your room and fucking you up. Tell me what it is, and if I can sort it." 

“I did something bad,” Jim took in a shuddering breath, trying to calm down a little. “It’s all fine I probably—deserve this. I thought I got away with it, but then there was Magnussen- swooping in and… he knew. It’s still better than prison.” The whole time Jim spoke he kept his eyes on his work and rubbed the towel in a circular pattern across Sebastian’s torso. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but Jim was practically hyperventilating so he decided not to press it. He shook his head, lying back down on the bed, not quite ready to roll over just yet. "You don't fucking deserve it. Not any of it. You should've been through a public school, smart and hot little thing like you, had it drummed into you that all you deserve is the very best in life - and if there's a problem it sure as hell isn't a problem with you. You're fucking perfect." 

“I killed someone.” The words were out before he could stop them. He couldn’t stand to hear Sebastian say things like that. He had to know. It wasn’t right to mislead him and keep lying to him. “I’m really not—this person that you’ve made up in your head.” 

Sebastian hesitated for a moment and then gave a chuckle, lifting Jim's chin again in an attempt to get the boy to look him in the eyes. "Just one? Huh, amateur. I was a soldier for four years. Who was it then, someone who deserved it?" 

“My last boyfriend. Carl. I got him drunk when we were in the city and I led him down by the Thames that night and I held his head under water until he stopped breathing. The police thought it was an accident, that he fell in.” Jim repeated the facts dully, still avoiding Sebastian’s eyes. “Being a soldier isn’t exactly the same as calculated murder.” 

"You don't know what I did when I was a soldier... they did actively throw me out the army you know." Sebastian grinned, unable to keep himself from sounding impressed. From what he'd heard, this 'Carl' had been a complete wanker and he was surprised that Jim had managed to deal with him so effectively. Reaching out for Jim's injured wrist he stroked it gently, "Maybe it's a good thing you don't have any vodka then, hmm? Did I just have a lucky escape?" He said it teasingly. 

Jim softened a bit even if he was still feeling tense and awkward. “I’m not going to kill you. I only offed him because he told me we were going to get married. So as long as you don’t propose you’re probably fine.” He tried for levity but the joke fell horribly flat. 

"Wasn't planning on it." For some reason he looked at Jim differently now he knew that the boy had committed murder. This wasn't just some brat trying to talk the talk, Jim had actually done it, held a man’s head underwater until he'd drowned. Gritting his teeth, Sebastian rolled over, feeling slightly more pathetic in view of Jim’s new found awesomeness, "Alright then, patch me up and we'll get to sleep. I'll bugger off tomorrow morning if you want." 

“It’s fine. I have classes in the morning but I’m done by lunch.” Jim finished with the bath and reached for the peroxide again. “This is going to hurt. But if you were rolling about in the woods everything needs to be disinfected.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just pressed the cotton to a random cut. He took a breath and relaxed further, breaking out of the funk he’d fallen into automatically. “You’re a prick, you know that, right?” 

Sebastian gritted his teeth and nodded, feeling very pleased that Jim seemed to have recovered, and that he'd been trusted with the secret that Mags had. "Yeah, better to get it clean than get infected ..." he gave a grin at the insult, "Yeah, yeah. I was weak. Won't happen again." 

“I wasn’t talking about Darren.” Jim’s hand didn’t pause, he kept cleaning. “Hurt me like that again and you’ll end up like little Carl Powers, do you understand me?” 

Sebastian nodded quickly. Having seen the pain and dullness that had closed over Jim's whole body he wasn't about to repeat the stunt, even without the threat. He was pretty sure Jim couldn't kill him, there was enough of his own natural arrogance to ensure that, but he knew that hurting Jim bought him no pleasure at all, and didn't seem to have much point. He hissed as the cotton wool drew over a deeper graze. 

“Good,” Jim muttered. He worked in silence, sensing Sebastian’s own exhaustion he kept quiet. Eventually he finished his back and then had the man roll over and did his front. He bandaged what he could and figured that would have to be enough. Jim still wasn’t sure if it had been a mistake to let Sebastian come here, to his private space. Until now it was easy for Jim to forget about what he got up to on the weekends, it was easy to separate the two different lives he led. Now that barrier had been breached and he was scrambling to fit the pieces back together the way they used to. But Jim hadn’t been able to leave Sebastian on his own, knowing he’d been hurt and would do fuck all to take care of himself. Jim had come home to clean and bandage himself up in an empty dorm too many times to leave someone in the same situation, no matter how pissed he was. Jim wasn’t even that pissed, just… disappointed. Still, he figured it had been too much to expect, Jim had wondered at the time what he’d done to earn a promise like that. Obviously he had his answer now- not a damn thing. He admonished himself for expecting any different, it had been a petty request, something he’d asked for when he felt high on the knowledge that Sebastian wanted him and Jim had thought that gave him more power than it really did. Because it turned out that Sebastian wanted Darren too. He sighed and scowled as his wrist twinged and his body started aching. He hadn’t taken any of his medication since this morning, he would need to before he went to bed. 

Sebastian could feel that things weren't quite right. Jim's movements were small and deliberate, the movements of a man getting a job done, not a person caring for a lover or even angry at a subordinate. He'd failed at his very first order, the only thing Jim had demanded from him, and yet Jim still didn't seem to care very much. It was harder to speak while lying on his back, watching Jim's face and expression, and he moved Jim's hand away once the worst wounds had been bandaged. "It's fine ... the rest are just grazes, they'll be fine." He licked dry lips, "I - uh - won't make that mistake again. Won't let him get to me, convince me. I swear." 

Jim smiled softly, hearing the earnestness in Sebastian’s voice. He really meant that—now when he was with Jim, in his bed, after being patched up. His more or less had his head screwed on straight again. But what about next time when he was still hurting and desperate for Darren’s attention. “Okay.” He said, choosing to let Sebastian believe that he’d believed him. “It wasn’t really my place to ask that anyway, it was stupid.” 

Sebastian clenched his jaw against the side of the pillow, feeling the aches and pains in his body suddenly rush through his crashing adrenaline to claim him. He'd been expecting a slap, a punishment, maybe more pain or maybe dismissal, but instead Jim was being even crueler. He'd let Jim down, and now he wasn't allowed to have Jim at all. Turning away he faced the wall, pressing up so there was enough space for Jim to fit in as well. "Yeah, I guess not." he tried to hide the bitterness and disappointment in his voice. But he had a spark of determination now - he couldn't convince Jim but maybe, if he could actually keep to the order, he might be able to prove it to him. The small taste of freedom was enough to make him not ready to crawl back to Magnussen just yet. 

Something was off in Sebastian’s tone, he was sullen again and Jim didn’t know what tipped him off. He mentally shrugged, figured the man was probably in pain and had the right to be grumpy if he wanted. “Go to sleep, okay?” Jim carefully stripped down to his pants and picked up his phone, looking out the only window set in the wall furthest from the bed. It looked out over the quad and Jim took a deep breath, comforted by the familiar view. 

Sebastian closed his eyes, but sleep was hard despite his exhaustion, he found himself listening out for Jim, for tell-tale sounds of what he was up to and then suddenly realised that if Darren were to appear, right now, wrap an arm around him and growl, "Fucking hell you're a bloody mess, c'mon soldier, prove you can still take it..." he would struggle to refuse. That thought sent him down into a miserably spiral that ended up in sleep. 

He sat in the window seat, it was so small that Jim struggled to fit on it. He pulled out his phone and sent off a text as he stayed up, looking out over the dark campus. 

That was a bit over the top, don’t you think? Poor thing doesn’t even know what he did to deserve it this time. JM

But you know, don't you my clever little magpie? –CAM 

Of course. It's funny really. That you think I actually care, knowing what you do about me. I've proven that I can be ruthless when it comes to getting what I want. JM 

I certainly expect you to be ruthless, I'm just finding out how ruthless you can be. Did he tell you what I did to him? –CAM 

Just texted asking what the hell I'd done to piss you off. Not much more than that. JM 

We did an outdoor shoot. Ask John Weyland about it sometime. He did make some beautiful noises when we started with the stinging nettles. -CAM

Sounds like a must see. I'll have to catch it after it's been uploaded to the site. JM

You really are a ruthless little creature, aren't you? I'm impressed. And don't worry that you weren't there to look after him, Darren consoled him in the showers afterwards. -CAM

I'm sure you enjoyed that. JM

It was well played, truly. JM

I don't care what my whores get up to after hours. -CAM

As long as they do the shot well enough. -CAM

Don't insult my intelligence. You care what all of us get up to, perhaps especially after hours. JM 

It would be easier for me not to insult your intelligence if you used it more often. My tiger can bear a lot of stripes but with enough time and patience some things did begin to ... slip. –CAM 

You're lying, there's nothing between us. JM

You've overplayed your hand. JM 

I'm not playing games anymore, Magpie. -CAM

Oh? Should I be scared? You've already tried to have me beaten and raped on camera, what is it exactly that you think is worse? JM

Next time I might do more than try. -CAM

You two walked in here on Sunday like a pair of lovers. -CAM

You know I was off my head on medication. He took me home because I passed out. Nothing happened, I was just high. JM

That isn't what he told me. -CAM

I don't care what he told you, that's what happened. Unless he molested me in my sleep. JM

For a silly boy with everything to lose, you are still very arrogant. -CAM

You seem to like arrogant people. I'm just trying to keep you happy. JM

Arrogant people can be fun, but after a while they do become tiresome. Sebastian was quite arrogant when I first met him. -CAM

And now, I can have his arse whipped bent over a tree. -CAM

But Sebastian isn't as interesting to you, is he? JM

He still has the potential to be, depending on what I decide to use him for. -CAM

But he's still already half whipped, more than. JM

He can't be as challenging as I am. JM

My dear little Magpie, you just require a different strategy. -CAM

I'll send Darren around to clean Sebastian up then, the poor boy will simply marinate himself in vodka otherwise. -CAM

Don't know, he might have ended up in A&E the way you're telling it. JM

I would never damage one of my little whores that badly. That's the most wonderful thing about stinging nettles - a very large amount of pain for a negligible amount of damage. -CAM

I would have had to go in if you didn't have John on hand. JM

That was an error, Darren can be far too overenthusiastic sometimes. And that is why I do have John on hand. –CAM

Just as long as you know you aren't perfect. JM

I never claimed to be perfect, you are so wonderfully, wonderfully precious. Are you sure you wouldn't get bored playing with Paul? I could let you leave some permanent stripes on my Tiger. The poor thing is already half-loyal to you, it would break him wonderfully. -CAM

I've no interest in animals that are already broken. JM

If you're really interested in watching me in action, you could give me Darren. I still owe him for last weekend. JM

Now that would be interesting to watch. If you like, you could have both of them. The Emperor punishing his subjects, hmm? -CAM

I'd really rather not. Don't forget, I'm still a beginner. I'm not sure I could control both of them. JM

You aren't used to acting at all really, are you? If I ask Darren or my Tiger to stand still and let you whip them bloody then they will do so. -CAM

Stay with Paul next weekend. I'll see how well you ... cooperate. -CAM  
I won't have any difficulties with Paul. JM

If you're sure. I'd prefer not to fuck either of them though. JM

I'm sure they would prefer that too, however unfortunately work is not always what you would prefer. Do have a look online before you come over next week, you'll see both of them getting thoroughly fucked. -CAM

I'll be sure to take notes. JM 

Good boy. Sleep well. Are the painkillers still working for you? -CAM

They're fine. JM

Put the scene with Sebastian and Darren off until they've both healed. It's no fun laying into someone who's already beaten. JM 

Of course. It's boring for the audience as well - they want to see smooth fresh skin being marked. –CAM 

Jim ended up falling asleep curled up on the window seat, his back against the wall.


	7. Rattler

Sebastian managed to recover fairly well by the weekend, rolling his eyes at the script he was sent and heading into work on Saturday, nodding at Darren, who gave him a grin back, smirking as Sebastian immediately snapped eyes away from them. He gave a nod at Jim as he walked in then buried his head in the script, not sure how to react to either of them. Paul was waiting in a robe and came over to Sebastian, flouncing and pouting, "Why am I with this fucking nerd ... playing giggling twinks?" 

Jim rolled his eyes when he heard Paul’s comment. He had tried to move his shoulder a bit and it fucking hurt still, he looked online and dislocations were meant to rest for two weeks at a minimum. He’d run out of meds the day before and he was fucking irritable and in pain and not in the mood for Paul’s bullshit. “Yeah well this nerd is going to be fucking you into the mattress in about half an hour so you should probably watch your fucking mouth.” 

Paul scowled as he turned around, sticking up two fingers as Jim and then yelping as Darren came over and pinched his arse, "Careful little Paulie - don't want to end up tied over the table again." He nodded at Jim, gently patting his shoulder, "Feeling alright? You should be alright with this one, he won't hurt you, let me or Sebby know if he does, eh?" He leered at Paul who waved the two fingers up and down at him from a safe difference. 

“Don’t touch me Darren. Unless you desperately want me to break your fingers.” Jim stepped to the side, away from Darren’s hands. “You gave a stellar performance last Sunday. I’ll be happy when I get /you/ bent over the table. Now fuck off.” Jim’s hands had been shaking for hours and he hadn’t been able to get them to stop. 

"Polite!" Darren rolled his eyes and gave Paul another pinch, ignoring his protests, "Well don't worry I'm looking after your Seb - we're doing wrestling gladiators. Lots of oil, lots of slipping, lots of grunting around..." 

Darren shut up at Magnussen came over, snapping at Sebastian to get into the showers and then looking at Jim. Putting a hand on his good shoulder he steered him into the office, "You're not performing in that state, you look terrible, let’s get something down you." 

“I’m not sucking your cock if that’s what you’re implying.” Jim bit out. He knew he should just shut up and nod his head and take the pills but somehow the words escaped his mouth anyway. 

CAM rolled his eyes, looking a bit disappointed. "Richard. Richard. I'm giving you painkillers. I'm giving you exactly the porn scene you asked for, and I'm even being nice to Sebastian. Unless you want all of that taken away for a stay in prison, I think you should at least /act/ grateful..." Putting open his top drawer he sighed and tutted, "I haven't got any pills ... but I've got a shot that might help you. It'll take the pain away." 

“Fine.” He sighed, slumping in relief, knowing that he wouldn’t be in pain for much longer. “Didn’t mean to snap.” Jim sat down in the chair and rolled the sleeve of his bad arm up. 

"Of course not." Magnussen slowly tugged off his scarf, tying it around the top of Jim's arm and then tapping at the vein. "You've had a confusing week. You're tetchy. Paul is annoying. Let's get you calmed down and then see how you manage on an actual set." His eyes stayed looking at Jim, milky and impenetrable, as he injected him. "Your shoulder will still be sore, if you feel the need after the shoot I can give you some of this to take back to Oxford until the ache dies down." 

“Okay,” Jim mumbled out. “You’re being weirdly sympathetic.” Jim murmured as he watched Magnussen curiously. His brain was trying to tell him something but it was buried underneath the fog of pain and shakes. 

"Why do you assume I am a monster?" Magnussen replied simply, putting the syringe back into the drawer and undoing his tie, laying it across the edge of the table and straightening it out. Going over to the cupboard in the corner he put on a new tie, folding the creases smoothly. "At the end of the day, I wish to do business, make money. At first, I tried giving you a script, breaking you in. It did not work. Then I tried getting Darren to acclimatise you. That went badly. Now I simply want you to act; to giggle and squirm with Paul in front of a camera. You can't do that if you're shaking in pain." Turning back he pulled down Jim's sleeve. "Now. Go and make me a picture I can sell. This is your last chance." 

Jim felt it as whatever it was kicked in and he took a deep breath, feeling like he could breathe without hurting for the first time in ages. “I know, I won’t fuck it up.” Jim stood suddenly and had to latch onto the back of the chair for balance as his legs momentarily tried to give out on him. “How much of that shit did you give me?” Jim laughed a little bit, a big grin stretching across his face, even though he suspected that wasn’t meant to be funny. 

"Enough." Magnussen gave him a small smile, the closest he ever got to a true smile, "Maybe a little too much. Calm down before you head out or no doubt Sebastian will come in and attempt to defenestrate me.” 

“Okay.” It was difficult but after a few minutes he felt his body adjust to the new medication. Right now he felt relaxed, probably because he wasn’t in pain, and very pleased with himself. He stretched his bad arm and found that it was just sore now and not outright painful. “Thank you.” He chirped and headed out the door onto set, still smiling. 

Magnussen headed out after him, directing the second camera-man to take care of Jim and Paul, while he shepherded Seb and Darren onto their set. Seb took an anxious look across, but Jim seemed unharmed, and if anything a bit more cheerful. Sighing he got into the mock gladiators arena, sneering at the cheap props and ever-used sand. In the bedroom set, that looked like a cheap college box-room, there was simply a big bed with a duvet, and a desk. The camera-man waved at Jim to sit at the desk. "Alright, part scripted, part free. Paul, you're horny, you're flirty, the usual. Richard - you give him more than he bargained for. Alright ... roll..." 

Paul sighed, flopping down on the bed and giving Jim a sultry look from under a blond fringe, "I'm boooored..." 

“And how is that my problem?” Jim drawled, casually running through complex algorithms on a note book that had been provided. It was for authenticity, of course. Who’d have thought he’d be revising on a porn set? 

"It's your problem because you're in my room..." Paul grinned, flipping over onto his stomach and kicking his legs up, "C’mon, you've been working all evening, stop being boring..." 

“Oh? I’m boring am I?” Jim set down the pen and swiveled the chair around to face Paul. “What would you /like/ to do then?” He couldn’t get rid of the faint grin that stretched across his face. Jim hadn’t felt this good in a long time, certainly not ever while he was here. 

Paul saw the grin and stuck his tongue out, squirming on the bed and pressing his ass up, "I don't know...just stop being dull ... hey maybe we could fool around?" His eyebrows raised suggestively, slightly spoilt by the sounds of Darren and Sebastian grunting from the next set. 

“You’d like that, would you?” Jim continued to sit where he was, but he tilted his chin up and smirked at the other boy. “Take off your shirt.” 

Paul bit his bottom lip in a teasing giggle, sitting up into a kneeling position and tugging his shirt over his head, "What - you're just gonna sit there and watch? Come onto the bed..." 

Jim looked Paul over, considering. He hummed, “Mmmm you /are/ pretty, aren’t you?” Jim stood and crawled onto the bed, maintaining eye contact with Paul. He grabbed the back of Paul’s neck and forcefully pulled him into a deep kiss. He wasn’t rough but he was certainly going for control. 

Paul squirmed a little in the grip but was clearly well used to far rougher touches, opening his mouth and moaning as Jim kissed him. He ground his cock against whichever part of Jim he could reach, already starting to twitch up hard. "Hehe - does that mean you'll ... consider me?" He asked as they broke away, eyelids batting a little.

“Depends,” Jim drawled out, licking a stripe up Paul’s neck. He cupped the other boy’s crotch and palmed him teasingly through his trousers. “How good are you with your mouth?” 

"O-ohhh I can be very good..." Paul moaned, he'd been trained well to make his voice sound sensual, to moan while talking. He pressed his hardening dick closer into Jim's hand, "At least... that's what the football team all say..." his lips ghosted teasing over Jim's.

“All of them? My, you have been busy.” Jim rewarded Paul and pressed his hand down harder. Jim licked Paul’s lower lip and then kissed him again, more languidly this time. 

"Well this is what you miss by studying all the time..." Paul teased, gasping and moaning again as Jim kissed him, his body now squirming anxiously. When they broke away he gave a gasp, "O-oh Richard ... p-please..." 

“Please what?” Jim’s mouth descended on Paul’s neck and he sucked the skin there and ran his tongue over the sensitive flesh. He continued to rub Paul off through his jeans, trying not to laugh at how vocal the other boy was. 

"A-ahhh please fuck me..." Paul arched his ass backwards, curving away from his spine, his hands gripping at Jim's hoodie. His neck tilted as Jim started to suck it and there was an approving sort of noise from the camera man. "Mmmm ... Jim fuck, I've been watching your dick each time you change, please..." 

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Jim smirked and leaned back. He moved away from the bed to the desk drawer where the condoms and lube were hidden. “Get your trousers off. Lie back on the bed for me and touch yourself.” 

Paul gave another moan and then obeyed, hungry and needy, like the little whore he always played. Tugging his trousers off he lay on his back, hips arching towards the camera, stroking himself with one hand while the other started to press into his entrance. 

Jim quickly stripped down to his pants, leaving enough time for the camera to focus on Paul and what he was doing. He crawled back on the bed and ran a hand down from Paul’s chest to his cock. “You really are very pretty.” He climbed over the other boy, watching him carefully. “Touch me too, I know you want to. Get me hard.” 

Even behind the acting, Paul's eyes brightened momentarily at the compliment, stroking himself and then, almost reverentially, reaching out to stroke Jim. He started with uncertain hands, all fake fumbles and slips with shy little glances and bites of his bottom lip, but soon got surer, well trained hands sliding over Jim's cock, occasionally reaching down to lick it wet. 

He moaned appreciatively as Paul worked, watching the other boy carefully. It really did feel good and Jim was slightly surprised that he was able to get an erection at all without the drugs. This continued for a few minutes before Jim reached down and lubed up his fingers. He worked one finger in as he smirked down at the other boy. “Do you like that?” 

Paul held back a sigh, already missing Sebastian. By now with Seb he would have been tossed over the nearest surface and subjected to a nice rough hand-fuck before the main event, maybe with a few slaps. Instead he was getting one carefully lubed finger, from some poncy college student. He hid it all though, gasping and arching in return, "O-oh yes ... a-ahh ... f-feels so good..." his ass tensed around Jim's finger, pressing muscles against it while he continued rubbing his fingers over Jim's cock, keeping it hard. 

Jim stretched Paul, adding two and then three fingers when he thought the other boy was prepped enough, paying special attention to stroke over his prostate. He was honestly ready to get this over with. Jim tugged his cock away and rolled the condom over it and lubed it up. “How do you want me to fuck you?” 

The camera man frowned shaking his head, and waving his fingers around mouthing, "longer". Paul rolled his eyes at Jim out of shot and then gasped, sliding forward on the bed. "Mmm ... c-can I suck you first?" The condom was covered in lube, but Paul still wrapped his lips around it. 

From the set next door Seb and Darren were laughing together and Magnussen sighed, "Honestly. Take a break."

“Fuck’s sake.” Jim leaned away and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, slightly irritated despite his high. “Don’t know what /you’ve/ got to laugh about Moran.” 

The camera man scowled at them, turning the camera off for a minute. "That was good, just needs to be longer, you can't fuck yet..." He turned nervously as Mangussen approached, giving the small smile at what he saw, "Are you both managing? Both staying hard? Good..." 

Darren and Sebastian came around from their set, Darren still sniggering while Sebastian hid a smile, "Sorry for throwing you two kids out. S'just ... everything's slippery." 

Darren patted some talc powder on his hands and leered at them both, "Awww ... aren't they cute..." 

Jim sighed, not really interested in taking a break. He just wanted to get home. “Fuck off Darren.” He replied without heat, he was too warm to feel really angry, even at Darren. “Mags do you have any notes? I’d rather not have to reshoot if we can get most of it the first time.” 

Magnussen approached, walking around them and looking, "It looks good. But it does need to be longer. Fool around, grope him, make him beg for it, even slap him a little. Just have fun." He nodded at the camera man, "This is good though, we can use it. Sebastian and Darren get back into set right now." The laughing stopped and the two men quickly left, but not before Seb gave Jim a quick smirk and a wink. 

Jim ignored Sebastian, not wanting to give Magnussen any more ammunition than he already had. “Right.” He said. He turned to Paul, “Anything you would prefer?” 

Paul gave languid sort of shrug, pulling himself upright and squeezing Jim's dick hard, nails a milimeter away from biting into it. Facing away from the camera he hissed in Jim's ear. "I would 'prefer' it if you didn't fucking steal Sebastian. He's not interested in some limp skinny student, OK? Stop making eyes at him, or he'll only want to be with you." 

Jim snorted, trying not to laugh outright. “Sebastian can and does fuck whomever he likes. But not me. You can rest assured that he’ll still be there to smack you around whenever you want a rough fuck.” Jim looked down. “Now get your hand off my cock.” 

"He has fucked you, any idiot can see it..." Paul muttered, moving back and letting go of Jim, lying back in position as the camera started and mouthing up with a cheeky grin, "Maybe I should tell seee-ayyy-emmm..." 

Jim slapped Paul’s ass hard, the crack echoed through the room. “Do you like that? Because there’s always more.” Jim threatened. There wasn’t much he could say with the cameras rolling. “You talk too much.” Jim leaned over and covered Paul’s mouth with his hand and he grabbed the other boy’s cock tightly, squeezing to the point that he knew Paul would be uncomfortable. 

Paul gave a surprised sort of yelp, flashing Jim a cheeky and heated look before moaning and squirming for the cameras, gasping around Jim's hand, his eyes crinkling in pain as his cock was grabbed. His leg lifted up, pressing down against Jim's cock, rubbing to keep him hard as the camera-man nodded encouragingly. 

Jim rutted against Paul’s thigh and he bit down on the boy’s neck threateningly. After he left a mark there he took both of Paul’s wrists and pinned them above his head. He jerked the boy off and bit down on Paul’s lower lip, “You don’t know anything you lying shit.” He whispered quietly. 

Paul couldn't do a huge amount now, but he still arched and moaned, wriggling his body against Jim's wherever he could. And as soon as Jim's ear was in range, he reached up and licked it greedily, whispering so soft it was barely breathing "I know I've touched a nerve..." 

“Really? Who’s to say, hypothetically, that he was the one that fucked me?” Jim whispered quietly, giving a moan after to cover the sound. He smirked and released Paul’s hands and played with the boy’s nipples. 

"I-I could still tell...." Paul gasped against him before squirming again, "A-ahhh ... f-fuck that's ... mmm ..." his nipples were pert and pink, and he sucked his bottom lip until it was pink to match, staring at Jim wide eyed, "How long have you wanted to do this for?" 

“Forever.” Jim moaned out, licking and biting at Paul’s ear. “And say what? You sensed our fucking pheromones? You’ve got shit Paul. Blow a whistle and Sebastian will never touch you again.” 

Paul moaned, not bothering to answer, just rubbing against his naked body and making little sulky whimpering noises. "Mmm ... I bet you'd love to /spank/ me again ..." 

Jim smacked the boy again, just as hard as before. “I’m going to fuck you now.” He decided this had gone on long enough and he lined up his cock and pressed into Paul’s ass. It would probably be a stretch but Jim didn’t press hard enough to really hurt the boy. 

Paul gave a happy little yelp. The camera man glanced at the clock and then nodded, giving Jim the thumbs up. Paul moaned and arched again as Jim slid in, wriggling his ass and tensing and rippling the muscles as Jim entered, far more practiced at it than Sebastian, "O-ohhhhh Richard!" 

Jim held on tightly to Paul’s hips and fucked him at a punishing pace. It had taken him fucking long enough to realize that the other boy liked it on the rough side, he felt like a bit of an idiot. “You like that do you? Tell me how it feels to have my cock inside you.” 

"U-uhh ... o-ohhh it feels good, f-feels so big inside, a-ahhh..." Paul moaned, sounding reasonably convincing despite the fact that the words had been repeated many, many times before, "O-ohh Richard ... i-it's so big - h-huuurts... mmmm..." his body writhed around on the bed. From the next set there was the sound of stifled laughter again. 

Jim flipped them off behind Paul so the cameras wouldn’t catch it. “Good, you are such a fucking tease.” Jim moved his hips faster, aiming repeatedly for Paul’s prostate and stroking him off with his other hand. 

"Mmmm w-well I have been wanting you for s-soooo long..." Paul giggled and batted his eyes for the camera again, arching his legs so Jim could go deeper, "O-ohhh d-dont stop." 

He barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes and he moaned as Paul’s ass clenched down around him. “Fuck you are tight.” The new angle was better and Jim stroked Paul harder in appreciation. 

A few more cliches later and a quick glance to get a nod from the camera man and Paul was cumming, moaning Jim's name while the muscles in his ass tensed and rippled to try and make sure Jim came soon after. As soon as the camera was off Paul rolled his eyes and slid off the bed, one hand rubbing the two fading handprints on his bum while the other fumbled around in his holdall for a packet of crisps. "Well that was fucking dull." 

Jim came with Paul but it certainly wasn’t anything to write home about, even though his high bolstered the effect. He wasn’t even out of breath. “Maybe Sebastian will fuck you in the shower if you ask him nicely. Or maybe not.” He stood up and wrapped himself in a robe. “What do you say love?” He called out to Sebastian. “Paul here is fucking gasping for your cock, it would be a shame to leave the poor boy when he’s so desperate for it.” Jim didn’t care if he was being a bitch, he was irritated with Paul for threatening Sebastian and being such a cunt about the scene. Paul could do with a bit of humiliation if he really thought he had the right to tell Jim off for fucking Sebastian. 

Paul stared at him, then gave him a smirk and offered out the packet of crisps. "God, maybe you are interesting after all. Don't bother Sebastian, after a scene like that he'll be all over Darren. They fuck all the time in the showers, god it's boring as hell." He crossed his legs, squirming a little on his fucked arse and sighed. "Sometimes Darren takes him home. Stupid big soldier man, if I was his size I wouldn't take shit from anyone." 

Jim watched Paul suspiciously but smirked a bit and took a few crisps from the bag. He was fucking starving. “It’s funny, I thought the same thing when I found out. Like what is it exactly that puts Darren on top? And they don’t switch? Fuckin weird. I think people like us being that size would just make the world really unfair. After all, if we had size and brains then those other sods would be fucked.” Jim sat back down and watched the other two men fuck around in the sand. 

Darren and Seb were still wrestling, by now various fingers were going into various orifices and both of them seemed to be having a damn good time. Paul shrugged, putting the crisps where they could both reach and pulling his feet onto the bench, bending his knees and resting his hands on them. "They switch when Cam makes them. Otherwise, nah. It's not the outside of Seb that makes him bottom, he's strong enough to beat Darren. It's the inside." He twirled his finger near his ear. "He needs the control in his life. It's a comfort for him - if he's being ordered around and surviving pain it makes him feel worthwhile. God he's mad. Did you know they threw him out the army for torturing prisoners?" 

“Sure he’s mad—that’s what makes him interesting.” Jim leaned back on the bed until he was laying down and could stare up at the ceiling, imagining he could see the constellations there and half believing they were real. “That’s what I heard—sort of. Never really got the full story from him.” CAM had said that Sebastian was kicked out for being too violent, and the man himself had told Jim that he’d killed people and gotten kicked out for it. Torture wasn’t a big leap from there. Jim put another chip in his mouth. 

"Yeah ... Cam told me that my first day on set, god I almost shit myself." Paul looked at Jim, lying down, trying to work out why the skinny student was even half-way interested in Sebastian Moran. "He's crazy. He's a brutal top but he's more comfortable being a bottom and Darren knows how to catch him." He sighed wistfully as, still being filmed, the two of them rolled over, Sebastian on hands and knees with Darren on top. "He doesn't even enjoy it, it's such a shame. He hates every time Darren fucks him, but it makes him feel... validated. That's all everyone wants to feel ever on earth." 

Jim almost told Paul that Sebastian practically begged Jim to top him but even his medication wasn’t going to make him run his tongue that badly. “It might be something he’d normally enjoy—Darren just makes everyone miserable.” Jim winced a bit as he tried to stretch his arm. He’d put it back in the sling as soon as he showered. 

"Oh yeah, he just hates Darren." Paul gave a snigger, biting his lip. "Everyone hates Darren, even Cam, poor Darren." Pushing himself up he patted Jim slightly awkwardly on the good shoulder. "C'mon, I'm going to wash before those two get in there. They spit roasted me once, god I don't need that again." Grabbing his robe and towel, he headed for the bathroom, as Darren came loud and hard inside Sebastian, who practically roared out as he came as well. CAM looked satisfied, and the camera-man nodded. 

Jim rolled his eyes at the ungodly noise they were making. Spit roasted? Jesus fuck, Jim didn’t ever want to do a fucking scene with Sebastian and Darren together. He was a little bit wobbly but Jim thought he managed okay. When he got to the bathroom he stripped off his robe and got in under the hot spray. He groaned a bit as the hot water hit his aching shoulder, it hurt a bit but felt wonderful. 

Paul looked a bit surprised that Jim had followed him but giggled and blew him a kiss as he entered the shower before quickly adding, "And don't even think about jumping me - like you would anyway, you looked so bored on set. Like you didn't even want to fuck me." He gave a mock pout and then picked up his shower gel, squirting it all over his body and scrubbing like he was trying to get a thick layer of dirt off. "You don't work during the week right? Are you really a student?" 

“Er—didn’t mean to offend. I really hate this stuff. You really are pretty, I just don’t like this much. If it makes you feel any better that’s the first time I’ve actually gotten an erection on set.” Jim really thought about bashing his head against the tiled wall just to shut himself up. The shot seemed to make his verbal filter worse. “No, only weekends. Yeah I’m really a student. Is that surprising? I mean does CAM not normally bring in… people like me?” 

Paul stared at him and laughed; which seemed like the first honest response he'd made all day. "God I forgot you just started. It's fine, I was straight until I started whoring in Prague." He grinned, rubbing the shampoo suds through his hair. "Wouldn't believe it now, right? Most of the people Cam brings in are sort of ... down and out. Desperate. You just look like some sulky student trying to make a bit of weekend money." 

He rinsed through his hair and then hesitated as Darren walked in and smirked at them both, "Alright short-stuff, the big boys are here so piss off unless you want to get involved." he shot a glance at Jim, "You too." 

Jim rolled his eyes but collected his things and turned off the water. He kept his eyes up and refused to look—irritated by Darren’s attitude when he felt like it was an infringement of his—what? Jim didn’t have shit when he came to Sebastian and he knew it. The situation left him angry as fuck but there was nothing he could do about it. Sebastian had to pull himself out of this shit if he ever wanted a chance at being his own man. Jim had done the same thing with Carl. 

Paul gave a little yelp that was almost half for show, tugging his clothes on quickly and scooting out. Darren smirked as Jim left as well, and couldn't resist calling after him. "If you really do care, you can stop outside the doors and listen to me giving your Seb a nice hard fucking. The kind he needs. The kind you can't give him. Mags says you've stopped giving a shit, but Seb's been practically panting your name all day..." he shut up as Sebastian entered the showers, looking a bit disappointed that Jim and Paul had left, slightly nervous to be all alone with Darren. 

His mouth twisted in a grimace. /Oh fuck it!/ Jim reached out and snagged Sebastian’s wrist as he was headed out the door. He didn’t say anything. Jim just stared Sebastian in the eye, not judgmentally or encouragingly. Just stared, assessing. Sizing him up. After a long moment he let go and walked out the door after Paul. 

Darren frowned as Jim grabbed onto Seb, watching him leave suspiciously. Then he turned to Sebastian, challenging. "Fuck was that? Mags is talking shit isn't he? You two are a hell of an item." Sebastian scowled and turned away, turning on the shower and ignoring him. Darren came closer, giving Seb a smack on the arse, "c'mon ... don't tell me you'd rather shag some twinky little student than me..." 

Sebastian turned and all but snarled at him. Usually, he might have given in, but the days filming had been fun, and hadn't left him wrung out or desperate, besides which, watching Jim and Paul had been hot. "Just fuck off alright?" 

Darren backed away, eyes wide, "Alright fine, so you're not in the mood today. You will be..."


	8. House Arrest

Jim stormed into the studio Monday evening. He felt awful, his body /hurt/ not just his shoulder (which was back in the sling) but his whole body ached like he’d gone through rigorous exercise. He had a fever and his forehead sheened with sweat. Jim felt like his brain had thickened into a muddy swamp and anytime he tried to work through something he was sucked into the muddy waters. The shakes had come back, bad enough that he couldn’t hold his pencil in class today. His Professor sent him home, telling Jim that he looked like he had the flu. That was when he’d figured it out. The boy glanced about, ignoring everything else except for Magnussen who was standing and talking to the camera man. When he looked up at Jim the boy made a bee line for the man’s office and slammed the door behind him. He hadn’t texted CAM to let him know he was coming, Jim wanted to see the man’s face when he asked him. “What the /fuck/ have you been giving me!?” Jim turned and snarled at Magnussen when he closed the office door behind him. 

John and Paulo were doing some sort of beach hut scene, and they both looked up as Jim stormed in. John frowned a little, but Magnussen remained expressionless, following Jim into the office and closing the office door gently behind him. He looked down steadfastly at Jim, taking in his appearance, his shakiness, and his anger. "You know what I've been giving you. Something to take your pain away. By the looks of it, you need a little more." 

“Don’t play games with me!” Jim roared and then took a breath, remembering he had to keep this conversation quiet enough that the whole studio wouldn’t hear outside the door.

Magnussen raised an eyebrow and went to sit behind the desk, motioning at Jim to sit in front of it. "I'm not. You are an intelligent young man. I'm sure you know I've been letting you have heroin. For free, I might add, which makes you a very lucky boy. It's helped you feel good, got you through the shoots. Have you seen how well you and Paul's video did? I might even film you two again." 

Jim sucked in a deep breath as he heard his suspicions confirmed. Holy hell. He took a step back and shook his head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You know I could be kicked out of school for this, does that not mean a fucking thing to you? After everything I’ve scraped and worked for you’re happy to see it all ruined as long as I make decent porn?”

"I trust you to be sensible enough not to be kicked out of your college. There's no reason you should be. They don't search your rooms, do they? You'll never have that much, I'll give you enough for each week. And all of it will be free." Reaching into the drawer, Magnussen pulled out another syringe, laying it gently on the desk in front of Jim. "I do not want to see you ruined. You have potential to do well in college. But this helps you concentrate, and focus on the work you do for me. And I do need that." 

“No. I’m done. I’ll take a week off from classes… I should be fine in time for shooting. I’m not going to do this.” Still, Jim kept his eyes on the syringe lying on the desk. 

Magnussen stood up, walking round behind Jim and pressing fingertips lightly against his shoulders. "Pick up the syringe, you silly boy, look at your body, you need it. You are going to spend Saturday whipping the skin off your beloved Sebastian, and getting all the revenge you need on Darren, you will need it then as well. On Sunday, Sebastian will finally gave in and sleep with Darren, and you will need it then also. There is a lot going on, your shoulder is still hurting. Of course you can go a week without it. But this is not the right week." 

Jim shook his head obstinately even though turning it down felt like slowly being crushed under pressure. Magnussen was right, this week was going to be shitty anyway but so would the next week and the week after and the week after that. Jim needed to stop now while he could. “Sounds like maybe you should be offering this to Sebastian. Seems like he’s going to be having a really shitty week.” The words were distracted and distant, it felt like all he could focus on was that stupid needle on the desk. 

"Sebastian is used to it." Magnussen said, cold and distant. He could see Jim slipping, feeling him sweating and shaking and increased the pressure on his bad shoulder. "You will be too, one day, but for now you need help. And it /will/ help. You do not have to take it now, but if you are having the week off school I would like you to come in on Wednesday. See how you do. It will still be here then. If you want to spend two days drowning then you may, but it would be easier to take it now."

Jim bit down on his lip as the pain in his shoulder increased exponentially where Magnussen pushed on it. “I won’t be clean by Wednesday,” Jim warned. Although he knew that was the point. “What do you want me for on Wednesday?” The type of scene he would be doing would affect his answer. 

"You know what scene you are doing next." Magnussen bent to whisper it in his ear. "You will be the Emperor. I know you can act it. Sebastian and Darren as your slaves. There will not need to be much of a script. It will sell - there are millions, tens of millions of men who would jack off day and night to watching you - a brazen little slut with an attitude as big as the ego he doesn't deserve, whipping two tied, helpless, larger men. Wednesday evening. You can stay in London until then, I have a flat you can live in." 

Jim flinched a bit when he heard Magnussen call him a slut, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to that. He worked things out in his head as quickly as possible with the state his head was in. The conclusion was simple: he wouldn’t make it. Oh Jim could detox fine but he’d be in the throes of the most grueling part by Wednesday. Jim knew he couldn’t do the scene in the state he was in today, never mind in a few more days. He could sweat it out, like CAM said, but he knew that come Wednesday he wouldn’t be able to function without it. Mags would make him take it, there was no way he would let his time be wasted like that. He was right, it was better to take it now and Wednesday and quit after that. “What strings come with this flat?” Jim wasn’t stupid, Mags had every right to tie every little promise and wish he had into this deal—he had Jim backed into a corner. 

Magnussen picked up the syringe and handed it to him, hearing the finality in Jim's question. "No strings. All I want is for you to turn up ready on Wednesday. And Sebastian is not allowed in the flat. Believe me, I will know. Now take your medicine and I will find someone to drive you there." He gently ruffled Jim's hair and then crouched down to be level with him, watery eyes looking into Jims, "Please remember I know what is best for you. I know what you need, to get through these things, and I /will/ get you through them. I am not out to ruin you." Standing, he left the office, motioning at one of the backstage staff. 

Jim held the syringe with shaking hands and knew Magnussen was lying his head off. Jim also knew, that right now, he didn’t care. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

A few hours later Jim found himself standing outside of Sebastian’s flat. It hadn’t been easy to find his way back there, but he had. He was feeling—better now. He took some of the- oh, fuck. /Heroine/. God, he couldn’t even think about it.- but he didn’t take as much as he normally would have. He felt better, especially after he’d showered in the opulent bathroom but he was still exhausted. His body couldn’t seem to keep track of what he was doing to it. Jim blinked the thoughts away and knocked on Sebastian’s front door. 

There was a few minutes of silence and then Sebastian opened the door suspiciously, wearing a fading pair of desert rat combo trousers and a white vest. He looked surprised to see Jim, opening the door wider and ushering him in, "Jim? What the hell are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be in Oxford studying something terribly clever involving stars?" The TV was on, showing something uninspiring with a laugh track, and a half drunk crate of beer was resting against the mattress. "Christ, you look like you haven't slept. Do you want a drink?" 

Jim shook his head and looked around, noting that not much had changed since the last time he’d been here. Perhaps it was a bit cleaner—or Jim was just seeing shit that he wanted to see. He shied away from that thought irritably. “You know your neighbors are fucking weird? One guy offered to let me suck him off for a fiver. A fucking fiver. Do I look that cheap to you?” Jim was smiling, just teasing. He’d flipped the man off and told him to go fuck himself—it actually made him feel better, to have some control over who perved on him. “Took the week off, wasn’t feeling great. Stress I suppose.” He peeked over at Sebastian between his eyelashes, wanting to see his reaction. “We’re doing that scene Wednesday and Mags offered to let me stay in his spare flat.” He was fishing for information. What Jim really wanted to know was if Mags would show up in the middle of the night and fuck him, even though it hadn’t been part of their deal. 

Sebastian smirked, looking him up and down. "Right now? You look about twenty quids worth of sucking." he knew the guys who hung around the flat and guessed that with Jim they'd just been trying their luck. Unlike Mags they weren't dangerous, happy to keep asking until they finally found a "yes". "What scene are we doing Wednesday? Nobody's sent me a script yet. Thought I might be in trouble for refusing Darren in the showers last night." He gave Jim a smug look - it was slightly pitiful just how much Jim's opinion mattered, but after all it was why he'd refused in the first place. "Which flat did you get - the big one or the massive one in Mayfair? Careful in the Mayfair one; the room service are used to Paulo staying there and they might try to cop a free-bee in the evening." 

He stilled, not really sure how Sebastian would react to hearing about the scene. CAM seemed to think he’d be—upset, that made Jim nervous. “Er—sort of, in trouble I mean. But it’s less about Darren and more… Mags being upset about us hiding shit from him. He still doesn’t know about last week and I think it pisses him off.” Jim flushed a bit and looked away. “I think I’m expected to whip the shit out of you. And Darren.” He peeked, waiting for Sebastian’s reaction. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he heard Jim's stuttering, giving a sigh and a small chuckle as the stuttering boy eventually got it out, looking flushed and uncomfortable. Putting the beer down on the windowsill he tugged Jim closer, wrapping an arm around him and patting him gently on the arse, "What are you dressed as - Roman Emperor, yeah?" He smirked, "So I get you in some hot little costume driving me absolutely nuts with a whip while watching Darren howling in pain, and I damn well bet Paul will be draped around somewhere eating grapes." he gave Jim's arse a little squeeze again. "Mags is starting to fail a bit with the punishments, isn't he?" 

Jim inhaled sharply as Sebastian held him and then his fucking shakes came back he was just—relieved that he hadn’t fucked up, he’d been worrying about it since last Wednesday when he’d thoughtlessly asked for Darren and Mags had thrown in Sebastian as well. Jim was just fucking /tired/ of this shit, he couldn’t believe he’d made such a mess out of his life. Jim took another breath, trying to calm down after all of the emotional upheaval he’d experience today. “Oh I don’t think so.” He said in response, thinking of the way Magnussen had trapped him in the office today. Jim felt fucking wretched about that. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so weak, for giving in so easily. "It was my fault. Last Wednesday when Darren beat the shit out of you, you asked what I had done and I lied. Sorry."

"Hey..." Sebastian patted him a little awkwardly as Jim started shaking again, moving over to the mattress and encouraging Jim downwards as well, bundling the smaller body into his lap. "Breath, yeah? Are you alright?" He looked at Jim's face again, flushed and anxious, dark little pupils and wide eyes and if he'd been thinking straight he would have noticed it then. "Nothing is your fault. What did you lie about on Wednesday then?" He felt a bit peeved that Jim didn't seem to have noticed that he'd resisted Darren. 

Jim’s breaths shuddered in his chest but there was fuck all he could do about it. Falling apart seemed like the perfect end to this shitty day of weakness. He should have gotten out of Sebastian’s lap, stood up, maybe gotten himself a glass of water—but it was such a relief to let go after all of the awkward tension between the two of them and all of the shit from today. “It is my fault, you came in and asked what I’d done to piss CAM off. I told you I didn’t do anything, but I did. He was angry with me. I lied because I was irritated with you and you were—angry, I didn’t know how you would react.” And there his mouth went again. Jim knew now why’d he’d been running his mouth so much the last week. 

"Hey, hey, it doesn't matter..." Sebastian was already getting a bit confused as to who was lying, who was angry and who'd been inconvenienced by all of this. At the end of the day it was just another shoot, another clichéd situation, and another evening spent drinking and feeling a bit shit. The main difference was now he had Jim who made him feel a bit less shit - or at least made him feel shit in a way that was more real and less numb. "Whatever you did, or whatever he did, fuck it. We know what's happening next anyway, and I'm looking forward to watching you looking all disdainful and beating Darren. Heh."

“He wanted to see it.” Jim shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had to explain. “When we came in last Sunday. He took me in the office and John checked my arm. Then he, CAM, told me to- strip and get on the table. He said he wanted John to check for damage from Darren. But really he just wanted to see how you’d- fucked me.” Jim took a breath and continued, looking somewhere over Sebastian’s shoulder. “I told him no. Knew what he was doing, obviously. Figured I’d get in less trouble for being petulant than if he actually had proof. I thought he’d take it out on me, but he didn’t. That’s what Wednesday was about. He’s playing this—game. Trying to figure out how heartless I am. As long as I pretend I don’t care he’ll keep pushing me but you’ll be… sort of safe. But at the same time he’ll keep using you, hurting you, to manipulate me. I’m not letting him but that means he’s just going to keep hurting you more.” By now all of his words were running together in an anxious blur and he dug his fingernails into Sebastian’s shoulder. “It’s my fault, I fucked up.” 

Jim's words were getting faster and more muddled but Sebastian could still hear them and he gave a laugh as Jim talked about refusing Magnussen's demands. "What? No, this is great, you didn't fuck up. It's driving him mad trying to work out what I see in you, and why you bother with me, and what sort of relationship we even have. I was the one mooning over you like a lovesick teenager. He's trying to figure out what you'll do, find your patterns..." he put two fingers under Jim's chin and pushed it up so he could look at him, "So don't have patterns. Change. Each time he thinks he knows you, flash around and act out in a way he won't expect. You know I'll survive it - he knows that too. Hell I might even enjoy some of it. But right now he's trying to find your weaknesses and your attack points and it's driving him fucking barmy that he can't." 

Jim shook his head and looked away guiltily. He knew he should tell Sebastian about today. Knew that it was /stupid/ not to. But fear niggled at the back of his mind, one of the questions Sebastian brought up. /It’s driving him mad trying to work out what I see in you./ Jim didn’t know what Sebastian thought he saw but if he found out that Jim was fucking up this badly, that he was possibly ruining his future, that he’d let Magnussen get him like this… No. Jim could handle this on his own. If it got bad, later, he could tell Sebastian if he needed to. “Don’t know. He seems to be doing pretty well so far. You’d think holding a hefty prison term over my head would be enough.” Jim listened to everything that Sebastian said and memorized it so he could come back to it when he needed directions. He thought back over their conversation and remembered. “He told me today that you told Darren to fuck off—I’d thought he’d been lying.” 

Sebastian hesitated, the pride he'd felt at resisting Darren slightly marred by Jim's clear certainty that they'd fucked. "Yeah, told him to piss off. Did you think I wouldn't?" It came out just a little bitterly. Even though he'd had the strength, it had still been a bit of a wrench, after the enjoyable tussling of the shoot. "Sorry you had to hear all that by the way, the gladiator stuff is always a bit mad. He probably wants to tack your Emperor thing onto it - make it a two-part thing so that he can at least pretend he's some sort of clever film-maker rather than just a wank merchant." 

“Hey!” Jim cried out in indignation, laughing. He started up with a passable imitation of Cam’s mild voice. “This will sell - there are millions, tens of millions of men who would jack off day and night to watching me - a brazen little slut with an attitude as big as the ego I don’t deserve, whipping two tied, helpless, larger men.” Jim shook with laughter. It had been fucking terrifying at the time but somehow Magnussen’s drama only seemed humorous now. “This is /art/ Sebastian. Cam is not just /a wank merchant./” He said, sounding scandalized. Jim calmed down for a moment smiled at Sebastian. “You did good, Moran. With Darren. It was never about whether you could or couldn’t but if you would.” Jim leaned down and pressed his still feverish forehead against the other man’s. 

Sebastian laughed at the impression. Jim might not be the best actor but he could capture mannerisms and people pretty well. "Oh so you will get a whip? I'll give you some tips, just to stop you actually flailing me alive... Jesus, you're burning up..." he could feel the hot forehead against his own and tried to banish thoughts of rolling around naked with that hot little body and concentrate on more immediate needs. Grumbling, he grabbed a packet of paracetamol from behind the mattress and tossed it in Jim's lap. "Take a few. You're a wreck. I don't even want to think about how little sleep you've had. Get some now, yeah?" 

“I’m not tired, Mum,” Jim sighed out. It was true. He wouldn’t be able to sleep until the initial high wore off and then he’d crash as the heroin started to leave his system. “I had coffee.” He said instead. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.” But Jim nodded like a good boy and took a couple of paracetamol anyway. “You’ll have to teach me how. I’ve never used anything like that on someone. I don’t actually want to leave you with any permanent stripes.” He realized his thoughts were all over the place but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Not when he was feeling so warm and content. 

"Course I'll teach you, when you're a bit more with it yeah? There's a trick to it, flicking the wrist gets most of the snap out before the leather actually hits..." Sebastian trailed off a little, looking away from Jim's flushed face and shivering body and trying to think of other things. Cold water and unattractive things. "F-for now just relax alright? And. Uh. I'll get some food in and shit. Alright?" 

Jim smirked and observed Sebastian idly from his place lying on the bed. “I’m not hungry.” He said, smiling still. Relishing the way Sebastian couldn’t seem to look at him. “Did you enjoy watching my scene with Paul?” 

Sebastian breathed out, giving him a glare with sparkling eyes, "Oi watch it, tease. And yes I fucking did enjoy it. Two little hot twinks getting naughty in a bed together. Wanted to jump in there with both of you - get your arse stretching and his arse burning..." He licked his lips, part of him wondering whether he should ramp it back a little - after all, the last time he'd crashed at Jim's things had got awkward very fast. But now they weren't at Jims. "Could have done without all the cameras around though. Just a nice big bed, and you two to tussle." 

He laughed, remembering Paul’s reaction. “Paul told me I was boring. I don’t think my ego’s ever been faced with that kind of rejection.” He teased. “He likes you, it was pretty obvious who he’d have rather been in that bed with.” His voice was light, he wasn’t jealous or threatened by Paul. Jim just thought it was bloody hilarious and didn’t want to waste the opportunity to take the mickey out of Sebastian. 

Sebastian hesitated, looking sideways at Jim and not sure whether this was another test. Having just passed the Darren one he was unwilling to fail at Paul so he shrugged, "I've been with him a good few times on set." he said lightly, not really wanting to go into the times off set. "I know what he likes. He's not so good with the newbies, and I suspect he was pissed off to get a college student." 

“Mmmmm…” Jim hummed out thoughtfully, taking the new information into consideration. “What’s everyone got against me being a student?” Jim reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s wrist and guided the man’s hand under Jim’s shirt. “Paul warned me to stay away from you. Said you would want a limp skinny little shit like me.” 

"Because it's a world away..." Sebatian gave a little groan as his hand was suddenly under Jim's shirt, mumbling a 'fuck it' and pushing his other hand under there as well, sliding his thumbs over heated nubs of nipples and reaching in to gently nibble at Jim's lip. "For a poor little fucked up Slav street kid you might as well be the prince, he doesn't know you're just a dirt poor Irish gutter-brat in fancy clothes.” His hands roamed over Jim's heated chest and then he reached down and tugged the shirt insistently over Jim's head. "The fact that he was my favourite twink was pretty much all he had going, and he's a bit pissed that you're taking that away from him." 

“Why do you keep insisting I’m at Magdalen on scholarship?” Sebastian wasn’t /wrong/ Jim was just curious what gave him away. Jim smiled as Sebastian stripped him of his shirt. “Well he can be my favorite twink now. Somehow I don’t feel like that’s as much of a consolidation prize.” Jim arched up into Sebastian’s hands, “You know he tried to blackmail me? In the middle of our fucking scene. Kid’s ballsy, I can appreciate that. Even if it was fucking stupid.” 

Sebastian gave an outright laugh at that, hands sliding all over Jim's top and returning to tweak his nipples, "Because I know rich, and I know posh and you are neither. I don't know if you're on scholarship, or if mummy and daddy are working three jobs to keep you there but I know you're getting at least some kind of bursary to help you out." He stopped to pull his vest over his head and then went back to caressing Jim, "Paul doesn't know what stupid is. Did he tell you he used to be straight? I think the poor little bugger almost believes it." 

Jim scowled a bit, listening to Sebastian’s assessment. “It’s like everyone knows just by looking at me that I don’t really belong there—it’s maddening. It is scholarship by the way, you got it in one.” Jim leaned back and watched Sebastian strip his shirt off and he looked over the other man’s torso appreciatively. “Leave little Paul alone, I’m starting to feel protective of the poor sod. Do you think he’d be useful? If I could keep him in minks that is—you know, I’m big shit right now apparently. No reason not to use that. Still, watch, he’ll turn around and bite me right in the arse. I grew up with kids like that, they take your charity and get the fuck out of dodge, like they should.” 

"Oh yeah absolutely, he's got no loyalty to anyone." Sebastian agreed. Once again, Jim seemed up for talking during sex, and Sebastian was determined to last a little longer before he started not caring. Rubbing at Jim's torso again his slid his hands down the back of Jim's jeans and squeezed. "Just a hot little tramp; out to survive and keep surviving. No strength, no brains, so he just sort of muddles along day to day. And you want me to leave him alone..." He grinned, licking lips and coming closer, biting Jim's lower lip again, "I dunno..." he said in a growling voice, "Wouldn't you like to see him squealing when he tries to blackmail you? I could teach the kinky little sod a lesson ... he might even enjoy it..." 

“Sounds like a challenge.” Jim arched his hips into Sebastian’s when he felt the man’s hands on his arse. “I suppose that’s up to you,” Jim said teasingly, “If you want to teach him a lesson. It was technically you he was blackmailing after all. Threatened to go to Cam and tattle on you for fucking me. Pretty sure he’s just a lying shit trying to haze the new kid. He’d definitely enjoy it though. He likes how dangerous you are.” Jim was still mostly teasing—as dangerous as Sebastian could be he also… wasn’t somehow. 

"Well I am dangerous..." Sebastian flashed a grin, squeezing Jim's arse tighter and pulling it into his lap, "I'm probably the most dangerous porn star in London." He almost managed to say it in a growl, but it collapsed into a grin as the words came out. "Much as I'd love to spank the little bastard till he wailed I'll make that your call. On set, Mags owns my arse but off-set?" He pressed his own hard erection against the front of Jim, "You get to call." 

Jim stared at Sebastian in astonishment, pleased despite knowing he shouldn’t be. “I don’t want to become another CAM.” The words were out and he had to scramble to explain. “You haven’t been able to decide anything for yourself in how many years? The most useful—pieces” Jim grimaced a bit on that word, it wasn’t right. “Are the ones that can move about for themselves. I love to order you about but at the end of the day I want you to follow orders because you /want/ to. I don’t do things half arsed like Magnussen, I’ll only be happy with willful submission.” Jim bit down on Sebastian’s neck and reached out to rub the heel of his palm against the man’s erection. He licked the shell of Sebastian’s ear and bit down on that. “You’ve been such a good boy. I’m proud of you, Moran. You were able to follow your instructions with Darren. What do you think your reward should be?” 

"Willful submission?" Was all Sebastian managed to get out before suddenly there was a stinging ring of teeth in his neck, a hand rubbing his hard eager erection and there it was, his last name, and it was all he could do not to purr in response, not to throw himself down at Jim's feet and beg the boy to make his life slightly less shitty and a hell of a lot more meaningful. Instead he bit the inside of his lip and managed to make a small strangled noise. A few breaths and a hard grip at Jim's backside and he felt able to manage again, but the only word he could genuinely manage in the context of a reward was a breathy sort of "You... fuck. Want you..."

“Alright Tiger.” Jim was pissed as hell about that nickname, the way that Cam took it from Sebastian. He wanted it to mean something again. “You can have me, just don’t carve me up too badly, yeah?” Jim rocked his hips into Sebastian’s and grinned down at him. 

When Cam said 'tiger' it was mocking, reminding him what he had been, and how far away from it he was. When Jim said it it buoyed him up, reminding him that maybe he could be that again. He gave a little growl, rolling over and tumbling Jim underneath him, one hand wrapped around the bad shoulder to protect it, and nuzzled at Jim's neck, "Never... never ever. Wouldn't even make you bleed." He gasped, licking at one of Jim's nipples and becoming even more determined to resist Darren in the future. 

“Good boy,” Jim gasped and his eyes widened as he felt Sebastian’s mouth on his nipple. Jim stroked a line from the back of Sebastian’s head and down his vertebra, alternating between stroking pleasantly and scratching with his nails. 

Even Mags never went as far as calling him "Good boy" - that was reserved for the younger actors, but Sebastian found it sending shivers right down him. Each touch - from the sensitive to the stinging drag of nails, turned him on further and he continued to lick and gently nibble at first one, then the other small pink nub on Jim's chest. When he'd finished he licked a stripe down Jim's stomach, following the small trail of dark hair down to mouth at the lump beneath his jeans. 

Jim’s stomach jumped under the line Sebastian drew with his tongue and Jim felt himself harden under Sebastian’s mouth. There were way too many layers. “Trousers off. Now.” Jim gasped out and reached down to fiddle with his own buttons. He was just—so fucking pleased with himself. He’d seen Darren have to go through a whole scene with Sebastian /and/ fuck him after to get him to this same place. Jim had put him down with just a few sentences, barely even touched him. He let the power go to his head for now, no reason not to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Sebastian had no idea who the order was directed at so he quickly shoved his own combats down first, just in case, moving Jim's hands out the way gently so he wouldn't strain his shoulder any further. He made short work of the buttons, sliding the jeans over Jim's arse and giving a cheeky little pinch as he went. Then he took Jim's cock in all at once, the entire length filling his mouth, while his hands squeezed and worked over his arse. 

“Fuck!” Jim shouted loud enough that he was pretty sure the neighbors had heard. It was just /fucking surprising/ and Jim had /never—/ “Never- feels so good.” Jim wasn’t sure what he was thinking and what he was speaking out loud but it took all of his control not to arch up into that wet heat. /God./ Jim spread his legs wider to accommodate someone of Sebastian’s size. He ran his hands through Sebastian’s hair, alternating between stroking, tugging and scratching at the man’s scalp. 

Sebastian let one hand drift down to press against Jim's thigh, holding him in place as well as sliding fingers across the tender and sensitive area. His other hand fumbled around at the side of the mattress before coating himself in a thin layer of sticky lube and rubbing it gently around Jim's entrance. His mouth kept up its work, licking and sucking as he enjoyed all the yelps and cries of pure arousal coming from the young man laid out in front of him. 

Jim groaned and pressed down as he felt one of Sebastian’s fingers breach him. “You’re—shit!” Jim rocked as Sebastian did- something- with his tongue. “’Mazing. I meant to say amazing.” Even those basic words were difficult to get out as Sebastian found his prostate. Jim was practically /keening/ at this point, after the stress and anxiety from today this was sorely needed and he threw himself into the physical sensations instead of thinking about the future. 

Sebastian grinned, sliding off Jim's cock to blandly ask, "Are you sure you don't want to talk more about Mags's complex people using?" grinning he slid his hand over to give Jim a quick hand-job while his tongue moved down, pressing and sliding and finally replacing his fingers, determined to show Jim more pleasure than he'd ever experienced before. 

Jim swore viciously at Sebastian in Gaelic when the man teased him for talking too much. If he was going to pester Jim then he just wouldn’t speak in English. Jim moaned as Sebastian’s tongue wrapped around his shaft and muttered and moaned a constant litany of curses and praises in Gaelic. He gripped Sebastian’s wrists hard and held on. 

He slid two, and then three fingers gently into Jim, thinking that listening to him speaking in whatever strange Irish language it was was probably one of the hottest things he'd ever heard. He wanted more of Jim speaking like that, losing it like this, switching off the conniving and scheming part of his brain which was still struggling against the competition that was Mags. Removing his fingers he slid his tongue away from Jim’s cock, and then lifted his arse up with one hand, bending a knee to get the angle deeper and slowly started to stretch him open, letting Jim grip his wrists as hard as he wanted. 

Jim hissed and continued his cursing as he noticed Sebastian laughing at him a bit. He didn’t say anything though so Jim didn’t stop. Mad bastard seemed to like it. Jim switched from curses to promises of what he would do to Sebastian when he got his hands on him. The boy scrambled a bit as Sebastian’s cock pressed inside him but his hands settled in Sebastian’s hair and the back of his neck. Jim thought it was a show of trust that Sebastian let him touch such a vulnerable area so freely. 

Sebastian couldn't understand the words Jim was saying but the heated expression that came with them gave him an idea of what they meant. He continued to push in, shivering as Jim's hands wrapped around to the back of his neck, bending his neck to make it easier. He gave it a little while to let Jim adjust to the size, but the boy seemed to be coping just fine and so he started to thrust, closing his eyes and gasping, managing a few words of Hindi seeing as they were playing at the foreign languages game. 

Jim threw his head back as he felt Sebastian’s pace pick up, tightening his hold on the back of the man’s neck. He repeated instructions several times before he realized he still wasn’t speaking English. “Harder.” Jim smiled openly when he heard Sebastian respond with something foreign. “More,” he said in English. “I know you know more than that. Give me a different one.” He wrapped his legs around Sebastian’s back, meeting his thrusts. 

It took Sebastian a few moments to work out what Jim was saying, given there was still mixed in with Gaelic and hisses and moans. He wasn't sure whether the "more" was for the fucking or the languages, but he obliged with both, dredging his mind for the Hindi he remembered, the Greek and Latin he'd had drummed into him at school, the French and Arabic he'd picked up and finally "Lift door open" which was the only phrase he knew in Cantonese. He continued thrusting all the while, gripping Jim's hips as he moved faster and hoping the boy didn't actually know Cantonese... 

Jim moaned and whispered, “touch me.” In French, “I want to feel you.” He wasn’t fluent in the language but he’d picked up enough at his shitty school with the help of a French dictionary. He moaned again and pulled Sebastian’s head down so that he could kiss and lick and bite the man’s neck, all while whispering dirty instructions to him in French just because he liked the sound of the language. 

Not all of Jim's French was perfect, or indeed understandable, but Sebastian could work out fair enough what was wanted, nuzzling into his neck while Jim left marks over his neck , running one hand up and over Jim's nipples while the other slid down, the backs of his nails running over Jim's thighs, "You look beautiful" is growled in French, and then in English adding, "All spread out like that in front of me...." And then, in Hindi, the one language he was pretty sure Jim didn't actually know, "Do you have any idea how much I'm falling for you, you little bastard." 

God everything felt so /good./ Jim told Sebastian as much in French. He groaned a bit as his brain tried to switch between languages as quickly as Sebastian did. He caught the French and the English but was brought up short by what he thought might be Hindi. Jim looked up at Sebastian with a question in his eyes as he noted the—tenderness in his expression and the tone of his voice. Jim’s attention was drawn suddenly to his own building arousal and he bit down on Sebastian’s ear as he felt that heat build to practically intolerable levels. 

Sebastian continued to thrust hard, reaching down and stroking Jim's cock as his eyes flickered towards it, stroking and continuing in Hindi, "You're beautiful. Seriously beautiful, and goddam clever, and when you call me out - last name like an officer - god I want to die for you..." he stopped there in case he accidentally slid into English and gave too much away. He might have lost almost every part of his self-worth but he still had a small flash of pride left which Jim seemed to bringing out more and more. The pain in his ear made him groan, eyes closing as he slid his nails down Jim's side with his free hand. 

Jim came into Sebastian’s hand and he arched his back off the mattress as his orgasm hit him. One of his hands found Sebastian’s wrist and he held on while he rode out his orgasm. “Don’t stop,” Jim whispered in English. He switched back to French and whispered, “I want to see you come.” In Sebastian’s ear as he dug his nails in and scratched down Sebastian’s chest. 

"You might be here a while..." Sebastian managed shakily in English, but continued thrusting, enjoying every tight hot moment, every second of pleasure. Hanging onto Jim touching and rubbing at the smooth skin as he did so, feeling the closeness that he never got on shots where he had to watch every camera angle. He gave a moan as Jim's fingers scored lines down his chest, "F-fuck... mark me ... p-please ... something for Mags to see..." 

Jim thought it was a bad idea but he figured Sebastian would be the one to get in real trouble for it. A bruise could be mostly hidden under makeup if they needed to so Jim latched his mouth onto the side of Sebastian’s neck, high enough that it would show even if he was wearing a collared shirt, and sucked on the skin hard. He bit too but he was careful not to break the skin. Bruises would cover up, scabs wouldn’t. “Like that?” He asked, poking at the bruise. 

Sebastian moaned and nodded, gasping and thrusting hard, going past the point where he even cared whether Jim might be finding it somewhat uncomfortable, just taken away in the sensation and knowing he needed to cum. His hands slid over Jim's body, holding it in place, one leg raised slightly to allow him to pound in hard and deep.

Jim growled and tightened his ass down around the dick inside of him. “Moran. I want you to fucking come already.” He didn’t actually care if the man finished immediately or not, Jim was just trying to help him along a bit. He wondered how fine Sebastian’s orgasm control was and what effects his last name had on it. Jim tugged Sebastian’s hair sharply.  
Sebastian gave a shudder at the words, his body shaking as he gasped and panted, trying to finish, trying to cum. Feeling Jim's ass around him certainly helped, and his fingers dug in a little as he tried to obey the order. He managed out a panted "F-fucking trying Sir..." He cock thrusting harder inside Jim. 

Jim smiled openly when Sebastian called him sir. “I’ll just help you along then.” Sebastian could make fun of Jim’s ability to string coherent sentences together during sex, he just wouldn’t want to after this. “Think about Wednesday. When I have you tied down and they put that whip in my hand. Are you going to be better behaved than Darren? Will you be good and take the lashings?” Jim dug his nails into Sebastian’s back, imitating the marks he would be leaving there later in the week. “Are you going to wait and come when I tell you to? Or do you think Darren will do better?” 

Sebastian writhed under his hands, gasping and shaking, already feeling the images that Jim was putting into his head. Having someone underneath him who was both powerless and powerful was a heady mix, the confusion of control and command, subservience and dominance playing together brought him closer and closer to the edge. His head dropped against Jim's shoulder his thrusts going wilder and more erratic, "F-fuck course I'll take them. T-take everything, f-from you..."

“Are you going to take it when I fuck you too? You’ll have my marks on your back and the whole world will see what a good boy you are, taking everything I give you, watching as I fuck you.” Jim adjusted his body a bit and gently pet his hand through Sebastian’s hair to juxtapose his words. “They’ll see how much you love it.” Jim didn’t really mean the words, they were more a fantasy he was building up for Sebastian. Still he smiled to feel the man slowly falling apart in his arms. 

"Y-yesss..." It came out in a whine, even though at this point he was starting to feel his pride dropping away in front of Jim, his hips still thrusting away eagerly, his orgasm still building higher and higher on the verge of shivering out and potentially making him completely black out. He'd never felt this hot for Darren, certainly not for Paul, but for Jim he wanted to cum so hard he'd burst a blood vessel, to finish at the order, to break himself apart in this young man’s arms. 

“Moran,” Jim bit out the consonants clearly so that Sebastian would pick up on it even in the haze. “I want you to beg me—then you can come.” Jim scraped his teeth over the mark he left earlier on Sebastian’s neck and held him tight in his small arms. 

Sebastian gave a whining growl, the use of his last name just about enough to prevent him from slapping the annoying creature around the face and pounding him until he came. But now ... he had to beg. Snarling, he pulled out of Jim, glaring at him in anger and hazed lust, before panting, "Fuck ... fuck you. P-please ... please Sir, l-let me cum..."  
Jim held very still, afraid that if he moved then Sebastian might turn on him when he was like this. “Good boy, Tiger.” He said clearly. “Come now.” 

Sebastian stared at him in shock - now he'd pulled out, now he was simply crouched there naked, now he was ordered to cum? His face still furious he grabbed at his cock, stared heated into Jim's eyes and within about two tugs was cumming covering his hand and the duvet, crying out loud enough for the neighbours to hear again. 

As vaguely frightening as being in this position was, James had to privately admit that Sebastian staring aggressively into his eyes as he came had to be the hottest thing Jim had ever seen. He didn’t reach out for the other man like he wanted to, he remained still and non-combative. Jim gave the man a minute to catch his breath before looking him in the eye. “Sebastian, are you alright?” 

Sebastian looked up slightly hazily, panting a little and then giving a lopsided grin, pushing himself along to collapse next to Jim and putting a hand over his eyes. "Fuck ... which bits of that was I actually saying in English?" he moved his hand to look at Jim, his previous intensity all gone leaving nothing but a relaxed and slightly dopey contentment. "You can order all you want now kid, but in about five minutes time I'm probably going to fall asleep so don't ask anything with a long answer..." 

“Are you very likely to hit me when you are like that?” It was the most pressing question on Jim’s mind and he felt relieved that Sebastian was relaxed and lying next to him. Jim still felt chills from his fever and the extra body heat was welcome. 

"What? Fuck no." Sebastian frowned, not entirely sure where the question had come from. Rolling sideways he wrapped an arm around Jim, hugging him close and tugging the duvet over both of them, not wanting the naked body to get cold. "Told you - I wouldn't hit you. Wouldn't hurt you. Unless you asked." He attempted a leer but was a bit too exhausted for that. "You fucking had me begging you ... I think giving you a slap was the furthest thing from my mind. Was Paul saying shit about that?"

“No—well yes. But that wasn’t it, you just looked really angry.” Jim shrugged and winced as he jostled the bad shoulder. He scooted back until he was pressed against Sebastian, showing him that Jim was willing to give him his back. “It’s—fine, I get that you’re not exactly in control when you’ve been pushed like that. I only wanted to know if I should expect it so I’m not- surprised.” Triggered was the word he needed but he’d passed that one up in favor of a word less heavy with implication. 

Sebastian gave a laugh, wrapping arms around him and snuggling him closer. "Course I'm in control. Not in control of what I feel - course not, no one could be when they've just pulled out of a gorgeous hot tight little wriggling thing and /then/ been ordered to cum - but I'm damn well in control of what I do." He leant his head back against the wall and stroked Jim's side. "Remember I was trained in the army. Recruiting Sargent used to send us out for a 20-mile with bags of rocks, then come back, fold everything we owned to exact specifications then go out for a fucking assault course run while he threw all our stuff out into the rain to be done again. I never hit him, so you needn't bloody worry that I'll hit you." 

Jim sighed and truly relaxed into the warmth. He wasn’t sure he entirely believed him—there was a big difference between being tempted to hit someone who could hit you back and make your life hell and wanting to hit someone half your size. Jim didn’t really know if he wasn’t trusting because of Sebastian or because Jim himself was just fucked up in the head. He supposed it didn’t really matter. For now he decided not to worry about it as he really felt himself start to crash. This was the part of the high he hated most, when he just spaced out and couldn’t be arsed to move or think or care really about anything. That black hole of apathy was terrifying—until he was in it. Then he didn’t care enough to be scared. “Alright. Did you like that?” Jim knew that he had of course, but he wasn’t sure if he’d pushed too hard or not enough. 

"Did I not give you enough clues at the time?" Sebastian chuckled, stroking Jim's body gently and yawning. "Fucking hell it was awesome, don't remember when I've last felt properly alive like that, ‘specially during sex..." His voice comfortably drifted off and he yawned again. "I'm not about to hit you. Course I'm not. You might be just a skinny little sod but when you've got that much power over me there's no chance in hell I'd hit you." 

Jim nodded and rolled over so that their chests pressed together and his nose was dipped next to Sebastian’s neck. “You know what a little maniac I am and you’re being open about how much power you’ve given me?” Jim tisked teasingly. “I think next time I’d like to tie up your hands.” 

Sebastian managed a sleepy groan but nodded, knowing that if he hadn't just blown his brains apart the idea would have him excited again. "Yeah, s'a good idea, ‘specially if you're feeling nervous I'll hit you..." It finally dawned on him that Jim probably had issues of his own leading him to that worry and he gave another groan, too tired to deal with that particular can of worms. "Whatever makes you feel safe kid. Sir. Now let me sleep." 

Jim was tempted to tell Sebastian he wanted to go again, just to see what the man would do, if he /could/ (Jim thought he might be able to) but he let the man drift off. Jim watched him sleep while he remained trapped idle in the mire of his mind. Eventually exhaustion claimed him and he slept better than he had in weeks. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jim was still sleeping on top of him when Sebastian awoke, snarling when he saw he had three texts, all from Mags. Carefully sliding Jim off him he padded into the kitchen, wrapping one of the stolen robes around himself and checking the texts while putting toast into the toaster. He gave a sigh, switching the kettle on and leaning against the unused hob, looking at Jim sleeping. On the one hand, Mags was livid and taking it out, on the other hand, Jim seemed to have been spared a few ordeals. 

He woke slowly from pain, well- soreness really. His shoulder and his arse hurt worst but everywhere he felt aches. As he came awake fully he remembered that he hadn’t meant to sleep over. The heroin had long worn off by now and he was in the uncomfortable beginnings of withdrawal. That meant the aches and a small fever, it would be a few more hours before the shakes set in again. Jim planned on being back to the flat where he’d left the drugs before then. He turned and looked at Sebastian, noting the tension in his body. “What are you so grumpy about this early? Not a morning person then?” Jim couldn’t be arse to do anything before noon most days. Being a student and getting up for classes was hard. 

((Two missing posts—Sebastian tells Jim Magnussen texted and Jim reads the texts and puts a sweatshirt on.))

There were no messages on Jim's phone, only Sebastian's, short clipped notes that betrayed the irritation and anger Magnussen was feeling as his pieces started to get out of his control. Sebastian watched Jim limping, a little worried that he didn't look too much better, coming over and gently stroking his arse. "You alright? You should get back to your fancy room and have a nice soak in a bath." 

Jim sighed and leaned his back against Sebastian’s chest. “Yeah, I’m good. Just worried I guess. Irritated. He told me not to let you into the flat, he didn’t say anything about me coming over here. Do you think there’s much point in hiding it from him still? How the fuck does he even know I’m here for sure?” 

"He doesn't know you're here for sure - he knows you aren't there and made an educated guess. Where else would you be?" Sebastian smiled, rubbing over Jim's chest, "There's no need to be obvious about it, the fewer weaknesses he knows the better. Just rock up on Wednesday and act surprised when you don't get to whip us. He's pretty pissed at me, I'm doing the college skit..." he rolled his eyes at Jim, "Don't worry ... I'll still be able to walk afterwards. It's just bloody embarrassing." 

"I could have run away with Paul. He just doesn't have enough of an imagination." Jim teased. He leaned into the touch, finding it relaxed him and he didn't feel as helplessly sore. "I can do that." Jim tilted his head and looked up at Sebastian. "What's the college skit? Am I doing that one with you? Are you going to spank me?" Jim grinned up at him evilly. 

"Don't tempt me..." Sebastian smirked, landing a very light slap against Jim's upper thigh and then biting his lower lip. He wanted to now - but he wasn't sure whether it came under the category of 'hitting' or not. "He's found a new boy. God knows who. So I'll be working with a complete unknown and I'm being the student which will look bloody ridiculous." He scowled and stroked Jim again. "I can't see you trying to find Paul's place ... even I don't know where he lives."

Jim startled a bit and grinned when Sebastian’s hand came down on his leg. He read the conflict in Sebastian’s face and figured out what he was thinking pretty quickly. “You’re fine, that’s okay.” He reached up and touched Sebastian’s jaw lightly. “I don’t like being hit in the face at all. I don’t like being hit with a closed fist. Otherwise it’s fine. Just make it a rule not to touch me when you’re angry.” Jim thought that was pretty clear and would give Sebastian an idea of what he was comfortable with. There would be fuck ups but Jim understood that. “Is it normal for him to bring in someone new this soon after bringing someone in?” This information concerned Jim, he was afraid he was being replaced or that CAM wanted a new piece he could use against Jim. “You’re going to be adorable, I hope they put you in a sweater. And shorts.” Jim teased him, scratching at the man’s morning stubble with his fingernails.

The list of what he wasn't allowed to do made Sebastian's jaw clench as he imagined previous boyfriends meting out that sort of punishment on Jim's pale body. "Course." he whispered gently back in response, taking each rule to heart, knowing they'd be a lot easier to follow than the rule about Darren. After army training, living rough, and working with CAM Sebastian had become fairly well trained at not hitting people he wanted to. He gave a half shrug at Jim's question, "It's not /normal/ but it's not so strange. If he's found someone he needs collecting, sure. He's got more empires than just porn - usually he puts people into the places he knows he can control them the best, and if he happens to get two people that go into porn at the same time that's just bad luck. He scowled at Jim's question, decided he didn't count as angry and rubbed his bottom gently before giving it a sharp little smack, "They better bloody not put me in shorts, I'll never live it down." 

Jim listened with interest, taking mental notes for later, when he'd be able to shoot up again and his brain wasn't so frazzled. "Whoever the new guy is, I might want him. So play nice with him." Jim jumped a bit and turned around to face Sebastian, putting his arse out of reach. "How come they put me in shorts all the time and it's fine? You never get put in shorts."

"Because you look delectable in shorts, ‘specially when they ride up and show off that lovely little arse..." Sebastian grinned, giving him a poke as said arse moved too far out of reach for another slap. "I look silly - great big man in little shorts..." he sighed, "Cam's going to do it, isn't he? Well you might as well turn up and have a laugh. And I won't be /allowed/ to roll this newbie over and rough him up. I'll be the student." His jaw clenched a little - he didn't like having no idea of who he was facing, what kind of person CAM might have found. 

Jim reached out and pinched Sebastian’s arm in retaliation. He was smiling though, enjoying having fun at the other man’s expense. “If that man had any brains he’d put me on costume crew, I’d work day and night just to design you the most ridiculous costumes. I don’t see what Mags is so sore about anyway, how long is he going to punish you for something he doesn’t even know you’ve done for sure?” Jim heard the kettle go off so he dodged around Sebastian into the kitchen. “Just as long as you’re not bad to him. That means no slapping him around, no getting in his face…” an idea came to him, “You could pretend to be John. That’s about what I’m looking for.” Jim was just teasing at this point, he knew that the idea would make Sebastian mad. Jim put the kettle on an unlit burner and looked through the cupboards for tea and mugs. 

"It's what he does - sometimes I'm in trouble, sometimes I'm not..." Sebastian hesitated, for the first time starting to actually think about it. If CAM was ramping up the pressure, it meant he was scared of losing Sebastian - not just Jim which was ... an interesting thought. "You ever read those things about dog training." He asked slowly, still processing that, "Or any animal really. If you punish them when they're bad then you train them, but if you punish them at random intervals then you break them..." He rolled his eyes at Jim rummaging through the kitchen. "Top left draw, under the lighters. And then you better push off and get home. And don't worry - I'll play nice with the new boy and you can corner him in the showers if you want." 

Sebastian deep in thought was something of a different experience and Jim watched him curiously while the man worked out whatever was bothering him. “It’s called behavior reinforcement, and it works on more than just dogs. It’s the idea that if you can consistently show something that there are rewards when the thing exhibits good behavior and punishment for bad behavior then eventually you can train it into a set of standards. CAM’s fucked up, he’s consistently rewarded me for bad behavior. Just about every time. I don’t understand what he thinks he’s doing.” Jim looked at him in confusion, “You know I’m not talking about fucking the new one right? He might be someone I can use against CAM. That’s all I meant.” Jim found the tea and turned to face Sebastian with a smirk. “You sure you want me to leave? Don’t you want some hot Irish breakfast?” Jim wasn’t talking about the tea. 

"He wants to own you ... but how I dunno ... usually he finds a weakness and exploits that to hell while being soft on you in every other way, drawing you in so that one weakness becomes a hook to hang you from, but he's not exploiting anything with you." Sebastian frowned, then blinked as his brain short circuited somewhat at Jim's question, "Guh ... I ... unh. Course I would. But you're sort of limping and hurt and ... ooohhh..." he worked out what that would mean and smirked wide in response. "Well ... I dunno. Last night there was all sorts of talk about me being tied up - what makes you think I'd want to submit to that?" 

Jim felt dread pool in his gut. He knew exactly what weakness Cam was exploiting. He pushed the dark thought away and focused on Sebastian. He felt—lighter here in this dingy apartment then he felt anywhere else. It was just a bit easier to forget his problems and the games and what condition his body was in. “I have plans for that, and I’ll need to be in peak condition. Next time, okay?” Jim stepped forward and kissed Sebastian thoroughly. “How about you teach me how to use my tongue like you did last night? I’m pretty sure that’s knowledge with valuable potential…”


	9. Hot for Teacher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote for Jim and Sherlock  
> Stormy wrote for Sebastian, Magnussen and Darren

Sebastian turned up early on Wednesday, not wanting Jim on his own with Mags and also wanting to spend as much time sizing up the newbie as possible before he got thrown into a scene with him. He showered and sorted himself out, wrapping up in a robe to spend as little time in his costume as possible, frowning as he saw the kid next to Mags. Early twenties, scruffy looking, tumbling dark curls and a pale thin face - he didn't look particularly inspiring. Or particularly dangerous. Maybe Mags was just going for the humiliation. "Morning." He said politely, looking the boy up and down and then patting him on the arse. "Get the script?" 

Sherlock’s eyes slid to the muscular man who sidled up to him. He was polite enough, although Sherlock was less than impressed with the touch to his arse. “Of course. You must be Sebastian. Sherlock.” He didn’t offer his hand but he gave him a nod. Sherlock was feeling twitchy, Magnussen promised to have something for him before they started today but he hadn’t gotten it yet and it had been a while since he’d last shot up. “You don’t need to look concerned, it’s a college scene not a gang rape. I’m not going to hurt you. Much.” He took a breath and looked the man over. Deductions were a bit more difficult when Sebastian wasn’t wearing his own clothes. Something niggled at the back of his mind. Sherlock never forgot a face. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Lord Moran?” 

"I'm hardly concerned about being hurt, after all I've been through there's not much a skinny little sod like you can do to me." Sebastian looked at him curiously. He wasn't much of a deducer, but this kid didn't look like, or speak like, some homeless trash picked up off the streets. This was someone Magnussen had chosen for a purpose. His eyebrows raised up as Sherlock mentioned his father, looking over at the set, where the camera-man was moving a blackboard into position. "Yeah, know of him." and then swore under his breath as Magnussen said blandly under his breath, "Sherlock, this is Sebastian Moran. Lord Moran was his father." 

“Thought so. We’ve met before.” Sherlock smirked at Sebastian’s discomfort and refused to explain where they’d met. He knew Sebastian wouldn’t remember, not without the clue of his last name. “So how did the only child of Lord Augustus end up in this shit hole? Army didn’t agree with you then? You were discharged, weren’t you? Dishonorable discharge? What did you do, stick your cock up the wrong arse?” 

Sebastian's jaw almost dropped open, not so much at what was being said (he'd heard worse) but that some newbie, some posh little twat hanging around with the wrong crowd, was being so brazen and attacking on his first day. Once he'd gathered himself up, and caught the slightly smirking eye of Magnussen still hovering behind them he managed to reply. "Oh yes, dishonorable all the way. Apparently you have to play nice with prisoners now, even if they're treacherous little weasels who'd torture you in a second if they caught you, not to mention filming your head being sliced off for the gratification of the internet. I might have slapped a few of them around a bit." He looked down at Sherlock, "What did you do - get 99% in an exam rather than 100 and get struck out of the family?"

Sherlock smiled and rocked back on his heels, “Touchy… I can see why he calls you tiger. Although…” Sherlock tilted his head and peered at Sebastian. “Your new boyfriend has teeth too. Prefect match then? What does he think about the fact that I’m going to spank you and then fuck you over a desk?” Sherlock vaguely recalled a scandal he’d heard about. “Think it’s going to bring back memories? Tell me, was the ambassador your first time or was he just for fun?” 

Sebastian looked up at Magnussen suspiciously, who just raised an eyebrow, rather interested to hear that tit-bit of Sebastian's life for the first time. Sebastian took a few breaths, patting Sherlock's arse again and fighting back the urge to slap him. Jim had asked him to make nice, so he would make nice. "I don't have a new boyfriend. I'm not a boyfriend sort of person. I occasionally pick up the odd game at the club, alright?" Magnussen gave him a disbelieving sort of look. "I'd be more worried if you actually looked capable of raising a mark on me - we'll have to get the camera bloke to signal when you hit, so I know when to react." 

Sherlock tilted his head and looked the man over, noting the tension and his anger but he was holding it back. “Someone has you on a very tight leash, Tiger.” He reached out and ran his long fingers down the other man’s face. “Magnussen was right, you /are/ well trained.” Sherlock leaned in closer so that Magnussen wouldn’t overhear. “Who holds that leash, I wonder? Because for all his bragging, it certainly isn’t Charles.” 

Magnussen gave Sebastian another neutral glance and headed to talk to the camera man, clearly missing Sherlock's last whispered words. Sebastian let the young man touch him, then as he moved close gripped his arse hard and tight, holding him in that close position and hissing in his ear, "You're damn well right it's not /him/. Now the only reason I'm not splitting your lip in half right now is because I've been ordered not to. Maybe tomorrow I won't get that order. So try not to be such a little fucking cock and button your mouth about it. Yeah?" 

Sherlock hissed as Sebastian’s hand gripped his arse painfully. He smiled, delighted to have gotten such a reaction despite Sabastian’s ‘orders.’ “Ah, there he is.” Sherlock grinned, relaxing. “Hello, Tiger.” He held still, not wanting to provoke a fight that would get them both in trouble. “I just wanted to rile you up a bit before the scene. It’s no fun if you come into it with a clear head.” Sherlock trailed his hand down from the side of Sebastian’s face to the hickey high on his neck and Sherlock pressed against the bruise with his fingertips. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe. I don’t /like/ Magnussen, as you can imagine. It warms my heart to see his little puppets moving around behind his back.”

Sebastian continued the glare, even though he was rather starting to like this kid, he was still annoyed that he'd been sussed out so easily, and not at all willing to be bossed around in a school uniform by someone he badly wanted to smack around himself. "I'm not talking about whether or not you like him, it's whether or not he can get you talking." He grumbled, sighing as the camera man motioned them over. Grabbing his costume he looked at the shorts in irritation. "All right, all right, let’s get this over with." He still wasn't sure about Sherlock, but anyone who thought they could play games with CAM was clearly going to be trouble in the long run and he already had enough of that with Jim. 

“I won’t tell a soul,” Sherlock grinned. He pulled a fake pair of spectacles out of his trouser pocket. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes. My bother Mycroft went to school with you. Isn’t it a bit ironic, given the scene?” Sherlock moved into position on set and waited until just before they were cued to begin to whisper, “Did you get paddled often Moran? Or was it only daddy that whipped the skin off your back?”

"Mycroft-" Sebastian's eyes widened at that, looking up at Sherlock and suddenly giving a grin, "I thought old Mags didn't seem that interested in you - he's not looking for your weak spot, you're someone else’s weak-spot. Mycroft ... ha." He filed that away to tell Jim, and smirked as Sherlock whispered at him, thinking this scene might actually be quite fun. "Oh you young things now adays have no idea how public school used to be ... my arse was stinging every night, with double on Sundays. Pity, you would have really benefited from something like that..." 

Sherlock smirked down at Moran when he heard his reply. “So I’ve been told.” He muttered before turning away to the blackboard and picking up a piece of chalk and began when they were signaled. “Mr. Moran, you’ve received abysmal grades, even by your frightfully low standards. As a result you will spend every evening with me in detention while we revise. Perhaps we can manage to cram enough information into that thick skull of yours for you to pull your grades up by end of term. The headmaster has given me permission to use whatever punishment I feel necessary. Is this understood?” 

Sebastian glared at him, it wasn't that hard to play a pissed off and defiant schoolboy when he felt pretty pissed off and defiant at the moment. It briefly crossed his mind that perhaps Sherlock had engineered that particular feeling but he dismissed it. This was just Mycroft's dopey kid brother after all. He gave a grudging sort of nod, scowling down at his work and rubbing the end of the pen into his hair. And now he knew why Mags had chosen this scene, it was dragging him back, along with Sherlock's words, back to when he had been at school, god that had been a long time ago. "Yeah, yeah, understood."

Sherlock sprung and the ruler came down across Sebastian’s knuckles hard, trapping them against the desk. “Address me with respect, Mr. Moran. If I can stoop to offering the same courtesy to a stupid little boy who is too lazy to study then you can certainly do the same for me. Try again.” Sherlock lifted the ruler away but held it in a ready position. He smirked down at Moran, watching him squirm. 

Sebastian gave a pained yelp, fuck he'd forgotten just how much that one hurt. He glared up at Sherlock, feeling his dick twitch already. This might still be worlds away from the intensity and intimacy that he had in his dingy flat with Jim but it was already more fun that shots with Jim who he had to admit was piss-poor at acting. "Owww, shit. Understood /Sir/." 

The ruler came down twice more, this time on the other hand. “Swear in my presence again and I’ll make you regret it. I suggest you hold your tongue or else I’ll find a better use for it.” Sherlock delivered the line completely straight, giving no sign that he’d noticed the suggestive nature of what he said. But Sebastian would notice, and so would the lovely viewers at home. “Now, we’re going to do some revising. If you get a question right, you get a pass, if you answer incorrectly you’ll get another hit with the ruler. If you get more than half wrong I’m going to bend you over my desk and paddle you until you cry, is /that/ understood?” 

Even though he'd read the script, and even though each word was a cliché, Sebastian found himself squirming and heating up. This kid was good at acting. He sneered though, pushing himself back and swinging on two legs with his chair, "Hell no, there's no way you can ..." and then, half inspired by the words Sherlock had whispered earlier, "No way my dad would let you..." 

Sherlock stepped forward and grabbed Sebastian’s hair by the roots and tugged his head back, exposing his throat. If Sebastian wanted to go off script, so could Sherlock. He dug back for anything he could remember on Lord Moran. “Your father wouldn’t care if you were run down by a car and left in the street to die like a stray dog. Not when your grades are so terrible. You’re an embarrassment to your family.” Sherlock paused and ran the ruler along Sebastian’s face and exposed neck. “You are a spoiled brat and your father’s money and influence will only protect you for so long as he wants you. /Don’t/ speak out of turn again.” He slammed Sebastian’s chair down until all four legs were back on the ground. 

Well. That was a message. Behind the camera Magnussen's eyes were sparkling. He might have taken Sherlock on to get a lever for Mycroft, but it seemed the boy was turning out things he could definitely sell. Sebastian stared down at the wood on his desk, his whole body itching to grab the teacher and teach him a lesson. But he couldn't. His cock was twitching harder with each word Sherlock said and he glowered "Yes /Sir/ ... I understand Sir." 

Sherlock carded his fingers through Sebastian’s hair, “Good boy.” And then pulled his hand away. “See? You are learning already. Now we can finally begin.” Sherlock went to the board and wrote out a tallying system for keeping a visual record of how many questions he got right and how many were wrong. “Which law of motion says that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction?” 

"Newton’s law." Sebastian snapped back sulkily, glad that this /was/ a porn shoot and he didn't even have to attempt to hide his growing erection. Not that Newton's law in particular turned him on, but the whole set up, the control Sherlock had, after spending a morning teaching Jim blow-jobs and then two nights alone was pretty powerful. He didn't bother to sit up, or look smart, just slouched back and added a "Sir..." after a fraction of a second too long had passed. 

Sherlock shook his head slowly. “I’m amazed that you knew that much, even if it’s an incomplete answer. Any first year could have told me it was Newton. Newton has three laws. I suggest you remember that as I may ask about the other two. For your information that is Newton’s third law. Now place your hands on the desk.” He waited until Sebastian complied and then cracked the ruler down again. He stepped back, smirking, knowing what this was doing to Sebastian. “Plants take part of their nourishment from the sun. What is the process of converting sunlight to energy called? I hope you’ve been paying attention in your Latin and Greek lessons.” He hinted. 

Sebastian grit his teeth as the ruler snapped down again; the most unfair thing, that he doubted Mags had even known when the script was drawn up, was that he'd already /been/ caned for various Newtonian laws, a fair few years and a few lifetimes ago. Why did Mycroft's useless brother have to be so good at acting? At making him feel smaller and younger. His fingers ached and he glared at Sherlock. In the script, he was to get this wrong, but the script was being unfair to him anyway. "Photosynthesis." he snapped, and then after another short insulting pause, "Sir..." 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow when he heard the right answer. “…Correct.” Sherlock tiled his head unsmiling. “You’ve answered one correctly. All you need to do is give another two right answers. It’s a wonder what you can do with the proper motivation.” Sherlock sat down on top of Sebastian’s desk, towering over him in the man’s personal space. “Which law says that an object in motion will stay in motion unless another force changes that?” 

"Newton's first law." Sebastian snapped back, knowing it would anger Mags and feeling a double thrill of all the authority he was pissing off right now. "You think I'm bloody stupid don't you? Maybe I just don't care about school and being some teacher's pet..." He knew it must look crazy, a thirty year old man acting like a spoilt kid, but he also knew that this was pretty intense wank fodder for the right kind of man, and Sherlock was acting it wonderfully. 

Sherlock’s eyes went to Mags—looking for permission. Sherlock couldn’t have Sebastian ruining the game. He needed the money. “If you feel that these questions are too easy Mr. Moran then perhaps we can try something more advanced.” Sherlock picked up the chalk and wrote out a complex math problem across the board from memory, knowing Sebastian wouldn’t have a hope of answering it. “Come up to the board now, don’t be shy.” 

Magnussen nodded, and Sebastian approached the board with a feeling of dread. There was not a hope in hell he could remember much more than basic maths, especially nothing involving this many loopy squiggles and pairs of brackets. He stared at it helplessly for a bit then scowled and held his hands out, ready for the ruler. "You know we haven't been taught this..." 

“And now I’ll teach you another lesson—life isn’t fair.” The ruler came down hard across Sebastian’s arse instead. Sherlock watched the man whirl around to face him in shock. He looked down at Sebastian’s erection in consideration. “There’s one more question. Moran, do you know what force resists motion between two objects?” Sherlock’s voice dipped low as he stepped into Sebastian’s personal space but was careful not to block him from the camera’s view. Slowly he reached down and ran his palm up and down a few times along the bulge in the man’s shorts. “The answer is friction.” 

Sebastian yelped in surprised, whirling around and completely not expecting what came next. Going off script had its own risks, true, and Sherlock seemed to be adapting wonderfully. Sebastian found himself swallowing nervously as the teacher stepped closer, the hand along his cock making his eyes widen, his body jump a little and almost without thinking he whispered, loud enough for the camera to catch but mostly just at Sherlock, "Please don't beat me Sir ... Dad'll see ..." 

Sherlock almost stilled but he continued his movements. “How does that feel?” Code: Are you okay? Sherlock was perfectly happy to whack the shit out of the man but he drew the line at seriously fucking with his head, he needed to know that Sebastian was still present and okay with what was going on. “If you don’t want the paddle I’m sure we can think of another appropriate form of punishment. It’s up to you.”

"Stop." Magnussen lifted a hand and Sebastian jumped again, scowling and shaking the insanity out of his head. Magnussen stalked over, looking at both of them, "Good. Very good. Sherlock, you act well. Sebastian, stay on script. That was very, very good, but I know the scene I want." 

Sebastian took a few breaths, rolling his eyes and giving Sherlock a pinch. "Fuck you're good. Yeah feels fine - don't go getting yourself into trouble. I don't want to have to explain to Jim why you're being smacked around by Darren because I fucked up a script." 

Magnussen headed back to the camera, looking over the shot and talking with the camera man before facing the two of them again. "I like Seb standing there, near the board. Do the next stroke across his hands, final question, then over the desk. Stay on script. Go." 

Sherlock watched Moran pull himself together. It was on the tip of his tongue to insist that he didn’t /look/ fine. Sherlock had whored with other sex workers before, ones with trauma. He’d done scenes that triggered someone and knew that with someone like Moran it could easily get violent. Sherlock really wasn’t interested in having his lip busted open. Still, if the man said he was fine then there wasn’t anything he could do. He would watch him for anymore slips as the scene went on. “Jim?” He asked instead, not sure why the name had any importance to this situation. But the conversation was interrupted and Sherlock’s question went unanswered. They ran that last part again, and this time they stayed on script. Sherlock made sure they hit all of their cues and that Sebastian wasn’t slipping again. The ruler came down one last time across the back of the man’s hands and Sherlock set it down on the desk. “Well, Mr. Moran. I can’t say that I’m surprised but I’m certainly disappointed. Two questions? That was all you could answer correctly? That’s truly shameful. Are you ready for your punishment now?” 

Sebastian hissed in pain as the ruler cracked down across his already sore knuckles, rather missing the scene that had ended with Sherlock grabbing his dick and which in his head turned into a blow-job followed by various other kinky happenings. Instead he rubbed his sore knuckles and scowled, trying to remember the script. "Oh Sir, c'mon, I almost got the first one right ... you can't paddle me ..." 

“I can and I will.” Sherlock moved over to the desk and grabbed a wooden paddle out of one of the drawers. “Now bend over and pull down your trousers.” 

Sebastian sneered at him angrily, then stomped over to the table, staring at it for a few seconds before sliding the shorts down, pleased to get them off. His cock was hard and ready underneath and he flushed, "Uh ..." Hurriedly he bend over, pressing his body against the desk and rolling his hips up and out to present himself better in front of the camera. Out of the corner of one eye he saw Jim entering and felt a sudden hot flush of shame fill his body. It wasn't hard to stutter out, "Siirrrr ... it was only three wrong questions..." 

Jim walked in and made sure to look properly surprised to see Sebastian already in the middle of a scene that Jim wasn’t supposed to know about. He looked over at Magnussen and gave him a bit of a sullen scowl on principle and then refocused on the scene. Sebastian seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Sherlock smirked at Sebastian’s predicament and he reached under the man to grope at his cock. “Mr. Moran. You are a very dirty boy… What is it about this situation that you find so arousing? That was not a rhetorical question.” Sherlock squeezed his cock tightly, waiting. 

"A-ah ... I don't know Sir..." he tried to mimic the voice and action of the twinks before they got paddled, squirming around on the desk, and god didn't that tight firm little grip feel good, "Sorry Sir ... please ..." He'd forgotten the script again, but it seemed as good a response as any and it was certainly keeping his dick nice and hard. Besides, Sherlock didn't look the sort to go ahead and thrash him if he actively resisted. He tried not to notice Jim, wishing he could turn around and face the other way ... but that would mess up the camera angle. 

“Could it be that you—desire me?” Sherlock fed Sebastian his line and let up his grip on the man’s cock a bit. Sherlock idly ran one hand along one of the man’s cheeks, trying to get him to focus so they wouldn’t have to stop again. “You’ve gotten yourself into this, you’ll just have to take your punishment. And if you make a mess on my desk I’ll cane you, do you understand?” 

Sebastian looked up at him, biting his bottom lip, "I-I do think you're sort of hot Sir..." he managed, trying not to cringe at the cliché, but Magnussen was looking very happy about it so clearly they weren't doing badly. He gripped the desk and nodded, "y-yes Sir I understand." Fuck but he wanted to be caned now. Between the heat of embarrassment and the insult of having to do this in front of Jim, the pain would be a welcome relief. "D-do you want me to count Sir?" 

“It seems like you are finally learning some respect. Yes, I want you to count out the strokes. Maybe this will give you pause in the future before you cause trouble.” Sherlock ran his fingers through Sebastian’s hair briefly, trying to ground the other man and calm him down. “I think ten lashes is acceptable, although it’s not nearly as much as you deserve. Ready?” Sherlock didn’t expect an answer, he just wanted to let Sebastian know he was starting. He brought the paddle down pretty lightly the first time, warming him up and increasing the force until he found a good place and stayed there. He was precise and methodical, mindful of Sebastian’s squirming and noises, careful not to miss or hit too hard on the same spot repeatedly. 

Spanking was something Seb was more than used to, and he had to admit that it almost made things easier to deal with, to have something to push back against. He let out more cries and wails that the pressure really warranted, counting each stroke, "O-one , o-ohhh, two ... t-three ... please Sir - oww!" All of it staged. The things he really wanted to say were buried somewhere deep inside, and he found himself hoping that this "Sherlock" wouldn't be off limits. Not that the young man would likely have any interest in servicing him off stage, but being able to yell out insults at Mycroft would have been rather fun. He gave a real swear-word as Sherlock started to get properly into it - the paddle cracking down hard against his skin, as he tried to stop himself tensing up and making it worse. 

Jim watched impassively as Sebastian was paddled, he didn’t look away through the whole thing even though it burned just a bit watching someone else mark the man up. Jim refused to acknowledge why. 

Sherlock breathed heavily, his hair had fallen partially into his face and he ran a cool hand along Sebastian’s red arse. It would bruise. Sherlock couldn’t find any pleasure in it. “Good boy.” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “Don’t move.” Sherlock moved around the desk and put the paddle away and took out lube and a condom, which he stored in his pocket until he would need it. “I think you were so good that you’ve earned a bit of a treat.” It took everything he had not to shudder in disgust at the words. 

The last few paddles were particularly hard to take, cracking against sore red skin and making him moan. He could feel the burn of his arse against the cold air, could see both Jim and Magnussen watching him expressionlessly and then, fuck, he saw Darren smirking from the changing rooms. As he watched, Darren, with a few guestures, laid out exactly what he'd like to do to Seb bent over the table and Sebastian couldn't help a grin. There was warmth now in his voice, as he responded, "Oohhh /yes/ Sir, p-please ... I'm so hard..."

Sherlock smirked, watching how Sebastian seemed to come back to life a bit now that the paddling was over. “Stay still now. Or I’ll quiz you again while I fuck you. Now get on your back.” While he waited for Sebastian to comply Sherlock paid special attention to the process of lubing up his fingers. He knew he had beautiful hands. He pressed a single finger in, working it in and out a few times before adding a second finger quickly after. Sherlock knew it would be a bit of a stretch so he reached around and stroked Sebastian’s cock with his other hand, hoping it would distract from any discomfort he was feeling. 

Rolling over put him out of sight of Darren so he hesitated just slightly while Darren's hands graphically dealt out what they could both do with Sherlock and then reluctantly rolled over. Sherlock's fingers were ridiculously smooth and thin, so much that he could barely feel them going in - still he moaned and arched and made all the right noises. 

Getting hard on command was mostly a requirement as a male whore, at least if you were any good and wanted to make enough to eat. And Sherlock was a very good whore. He didn’t have any problems with getting an erection and he’d assured Magnussen that he wouldn’t require chemical assistance. Sherlock undid Sebastian’s tie with his free hand and worked it loose as he continued to fuck the man with his fingers. After he got it undone he wiped the extra lube from his hand and undid all of Sebastian’s buttons but didn’t remove his shirt, it just hung loosely on him. Sherlock took the tie and held it up. “Lift up your head, I’m going to blindfold you now.” 

Sebastian looked up at him and gave a cheeky little grin, "You enjoying this Sir?" Despite the slight mess going on inside him, he was more than enjoying it, and his hard cock was proof of that. He lifted his head obediently, giving a silent look at Magnussen first. He knew why the man wanted him blindfolded, wanted him unable to see the surroundings of a fake set, camera and lights. For the first time, he suddenly wished it was Jim above him, rather than this strange, annoying young man who seemed to know all about him. 

“It turns out you aren’t completely useless after all.” Sherlock replied and tied the blindfold over his eyes. Sherlock pulled the condom out of his pocket, and pulled it over his cock after he’d unwrapped the thing and opened up his trousers. Sherlock would be mostly clothed in this scene as a sign of the teacher’s power. He lubed up quickly and then he held Sebastian’s hips to the desk as he slowly pushed into him, giving a little groan as he went. 

Sebastian gasped, his hands grabbing at the desk. For once, he thought Mags had made an error, or possibly Sherlock had waited too long before putting on the blindfold. Rather than making him feel more like a helpless school-kid, all the darkness was doing was making it easier to imagine that this was Jim who'd just set his arse on fire, and Jim who was pushing into it, "A-ahh oh fuck yes Sir..." 

Sherlock picked up his pace until he reached something reasonable and maintainable and then he zoned out, let his body take over while his mind was elsewhere in his mind palace. No one would know properly if they weren’t paying attention, he never missed a beat and he occasionally vocalized his arousal so as not to draw any suspicion. He reached out and began to stoke Sebastian’s cock in time with his thrusts. 

Sebastian was out of the scene as well, making the required noises while imagining Jim standing over him smirking with the paddle - why weren't his hands tied? They should be tied back, he should be being fucked raw, there should be Jim whispering in his ear about how well he'd done and how they were both going to bring down Magnussen... He gave a groan as he felt the pressure stroking his cock, tensing the muscles in his chest because after all he was still on camera, and squeezing his arse around Sherlock's cock, "F-fuck, oh Sir, please, more!" 

Sherlock complied, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s cock and grinning, vaguely curious enough to watch the man fall apart this first time. After enough time had passed and Sherlock got a nod from the camera man he came almost immediately and focused on coming back to himself and just breathing. His hand never stopped and Sherlock scratched lines into Sebastian’s red and sore arse as he came all over his own stomach. Sherlock heard someone yell cut and he took off Sebastian’s blindfold and grabbed a towel and Sebastian’s robe before handing both items over to the other man. “You’re alright now? You were pretty spaced out there for a while.” Sherlock was inherently selfish but it was his policy to look out for other whores and people like him, after all they had nothing he could take. 

Sebastian gave a horse yell as the nails raked down over pink skin, his body shuddering and shaking, imagining Jim's face grinning down at him as he came hard, panting and moaning. He felt a little muzzy as the blindfold was removed, shaking his head to clear it and blinking against the light, too ashamed to meet Jim's gaze now the scene was over. He nodded mutely at Sherlock's comment, then wiped himself down before answering, "Course I'm alright, I've had far harder than that, don't you worry. You're good. For a first time that was ... very good." He wasn't at all convinced it was Sherlock's first time. His control of his orgasm had been spectacular, far less messy and uncertain than usual first timers. 

Magnussen motioned towards them, "Good. No re-takes. Sherlock and Richard, into my office now. Sebastian, go clean up." 

Jim looked over at Cam in surprise. There was only one reason why Jim was here today and that was /private/. He didn’t want an audience to his weakness, especially not the new one who Jim had been hoping to win over somehow. Still, he walked into the office and sat down obediently in the chair, leaving Sherlock to stand. The man had done up his trousers but he obviously needed a shower. Jim thought it was odd for Magnussen to interrupt that but the man didn’t seem to mind. 

Magnussen looked at them both, then opened the drawer in the desk and bought out two syringes, putting them on the table in front of them. "My two boys. Sherlock, this is Richard. He started a few weeks ago - he's beautiful but not that good at acting, and not used to working in this ... industry. Richard, this is Sherlock. He can't be damaged, he is important, so both of you need to let me know if any of my big dangerous men threaten or hurt him. You both come to my office for the same reason, so there is no need to be ashamed in front of each other. I would like you both to do a scene on the weekend - two homeless boys looking for comfort in each other. Lots of kissing and touching." With that he sat back down and watched them across the desk. 

Sherlock nodded and quickly pulled off his belt to use as a tourniquet. He’d waited long enough for this and he wasn’t shy about shooting up in front of other people. He’d known about Richard’s drug problem, he could spot another junkie in about five seconds. He thought it was a bit ridiculous, Magnussen wanting to protect him, thinking that he /needed/ protection, but kept his mouth closed. 

Jim flushed angrily at Magnussen presuming to speak for him but also held his tongue, it wouldn’t do to make a scene when meeting Sherlock for the first time. He stared at his syringe as it sat out in the table… hesitant to take it. He shouldn’t. But fuck he wanted to. “Do you want me to do you?” Jim looked over and watched Sherlock sink the needle under his own skin and saw the way his eye lids fluttered closed in pleasure. After a moment he opened his eyes and undid the belt around his own arm and synched it around Jim’s next. “You’re not used to this, are you? Intravenous. Pills?” Sherlock guessed, Jim didn’t look like the smoking type. He found only a few track marks on the inside of Jim’s arm, confirming his suspicion. “It’s alright,” he soothed, and knelt down in front of Jim’s chair to get a better angle. He looked into anxious dark eyes “it’s almost over,” and gently plunged the needle in. 

Magnussen watched them together, his eyes, as usual, betraying nothing. Eventually he said, as both of them sat down again, "From now on I want you to both do this together, in my office only. I don't trust you with the drug alone - Richard may have it found in his room, Sherlock will try to sell it..." There was a loud bang from the shower area, and Magnussen frowned gently. "Excuse me..." he left the office quickly. 

Jim got up and rolled down his sleeve before following after him. Three guesses who was making all that noise. Jim knew it was stupid to leave Darren and Sebastian alone together. Which was obviously Cam’s intention. Fucking Mags. There was some dizziness with the head rush, he noticed Sherlock was following after him and thought he heard the man ask him something but he ignored it and jogged to the showers. Fucking hell. 

Darren was slammed back against the wall of the showers, with Sebastian's arm pressed against his windpipe, both of them snarling at each other. There was a long ugly belt-bruise along the side of Sebastian’s arse, laid against the red from the paddling, all shining in the wet spray from the shower. Magnussen made an angry noise as he entered and they both separated quickly, Darren glaring at the floor, and Sebastian scowling at Magnussen. There was silence for a moment and then Magnussen walked over and turned the shower off, "Well?" A spark of anger flew across his face as he saw that Sherlock and Jim had followed and he snapped at them. "Boys - back in the office. Now." 

Sherlock ducked out the door obediently but Jim stayed, clenching his jaw and ignoring Cam for now. He took in the scene and stared at Darren with an expression of blank rage. He turned his head and caught Sebastian’s eye briefly and softened, making it clear he was pleased. Even if Sebastian would be punished for fighting. Fucks sake if Sebastian caught any shit for /defending/ himself then Jim would find a way to take it out of Darren’s hide. 

"Just had a bit of an ... argument." Darren managed, while Sebastian clenched his jaw, feeling his certainty intensify as he caught Jim's expression. 

Magnussen looked between both of them, then walked over, running a finger along the belt mark over Sebastian's backside and looking at Darren, "Did you do this?" 

Darren sneered, "He asked me too. Stupid bastard. Apparently your new little junkie didn't give him enough, didn't make it similar enough to the way Daddy used to do to get him properly going..." 

Jim’s eyes flashed and for a moment he wondered how many times he could bash Darren’s head against the tiles before Sebastian could stop him. Probably not enough. “Shut your fucking mouth Darren. I can tell when you’re lying, Cam’s not an idiot he can see it too.” If Seb had asked him to he would be skittering around the edges of the shower like a kicked dog, and he certainly wouldn’t have been able to meet Jim’s gaze. 

Magnussen turned calmly to Jim, his eyes flickering over him, "So what do you think happened, Richard Brook? Do you know Sebastian well enough to be able to tell me? Perhaps you even know enough to guess at why it happened, I think we can all tell /what/ went on here. Why is it, that my Tiger no longer likes being fucked with his tail between his legs? Why he's becoming disobedient..." His voice was quiet, so quiet that even Darren jumped when he was broken by a loud "crack" as Sebastian's open palm slammed into the side of Magnussen's face. 

Jim hadn’t been looking at Magnussen, he’d been watching Sebastian. He’d seen his expression shut off—his usual reaction to suppressing anger—but even Jim hadn’t seen the slap coming until Sebastian stepped forward. Jim moved as quickly as he could but wasn’t fast enough to stop Sebastian’s hand from striking Magnussen across the face. He got between them, not having a hope of physically controlling the other man but he had to try for damage control anyway. Jim pressed his small hands against Sebastian’s chest and pushed as much as he could, snarling up at the other man. “Moran! Stand the fuck down.” Panic and anger warred inside Jim in a dizzy kaleidoscope that wasn’t helped by his high. 

Sebastian stepped back, panting hard as he stared at Magnussen. Jim's hands were doing fuck all, but his words had certainly done the trick. Darren looked like he'd almost stopped breathing. Magnussen slowly raised a hand, running it over the red mark blushing loud and angry along the pale lines of his face. Slowly, Sebastian reached down and patted Jim on the head, more for his own support than anything. Finally Magnussen looked up, his eyes cold and glinting. "Sebastian, collect your things and leave. Richard, get back in the office." His voice was still low and quiet. 

Jim stepped away from Sebastian, not willing to incriminate him or get the man into any more trouble than he already was. Or himself for that matter, it wasn’t comforting being told to stay after that shit storm. At least he knew Sebastian wouldn’t be waiting around. Jesus. Jim turned and stared at Darren with a completely blank expression. “I will fucking kill you.” He hissed and calmly walked out of the showers and back into Mag’s office, taking care to shut the door gently. Sherlock was sitting in his chair like he’d been told and he looked at Jim curiously but knew enough not to ask what happened. Jim’s anger froze over, he was barely breathing he sat so still in his chair, afraid that if he moved he wouldn’t stop until he’d destroyed everything he set his eyes on. 

Magnussen looked curiously after Jim as he left then turned back to Sebastian, who was still shaking. "Interesting choice, Tiger. I think your days as a porn star are over." He held up a hand as Darren started to protest. "When it all gets too much for you again, you know where to find me. You know what you'll be working as. Now go." Sebastian stared at him for a moment, still breathing harshly, on the verge of breaking down and begging, before he grabbed his clothes and stalked out. 

Darren glared after him sulkily. "He did basically ask. Then he grabbed his cock, turned around and fucking attacked me..." But Magnussen was ignoring him, still looking curiously after Jim. 

Magnussen walked back into the office, looking at Jim and Sherlock, "You'll spend the rest of the week in the flat - I'll get a man to drive you. I don't want either of you leaving, there /will/ be a guard on the door." He scowled at both of them, knowing they would both have someone to contact. "When you come back on Saturday, you'll be doing your scene together. Practice during the week - I want it perfect." 

Jim was torn between wanting to rage at the injustice of Magnussen’s orders and not wanting to make things any worse for himself or Sebastian. He spoke quietly, going for control even as his voice shook slightly with repressed emotion. “You’re making a mistake. You can’t just hold me prisoner.” 

"I'm not holding you prisoner..." Magnussen sighed, "And if I am, please, let me know who you are about to complain to? This is three days of you staying in a luxury accommodation with a friend. I'm not throwing you into a cell and letting you rot." He put his hands on the arms of the chair and leant forward his milky eyes close to Jim, "You are a worthless, poor, junkie student. Nobody cares about you. Nobody is watching out for you. If I wanted to spit in your face now, I could. Should I spit in your face?" 

Any other time Jim would have done—something. Instead he just sat and stared at Magnussen coolly with blank eyes and didn’t challenge him, but he didn’t back down either. 

Cam reached forward and gently licked the top of Jim's nose, then sat back, looking satisfied, and nodding at the door where a body-guard type man was waiting. "Enjoy yourself. Order room service, use the hot tub, enjoy each other. Drugs can be provided. There is a mini-bar. This is not a punishment." He stepped back and nodded at the man outside the room, who entered and gave them a nod. 

Sherlock was cautious and quiet but altogether pleased with the arrangement, his landlord had evicted him a couple days ago and he’d been roughing it. It would be a relief not to have to sleep with one eye open for a few nights. 

Jim held perfectly still as Magnussen licked his face. He clenched his jaw together tightly so he wouldn’t be tempted to snarl and bite. Jesus he felt disgusting. He listened to the rest of Magnussen’s words dully, already planning ways he could incapacitate their body guard later if he needed to. He stood with Sherlock and collected his things while avoiding Magnussen’s gaze. Fuck.


	10. Dungeons and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote for Jim  
> Stormy wrote for Sherlock and Sebastian

Have you completely drowned yourself in alcohol already or are you still sober enough to work the buttons? JM 

I'm sober boss. Broke, but sober. –SM 

Don't worry about that right now. JM

You want to tell me what happened? JM

I fucked up? -SM

Feels fucking fantastic though -SM

Good. You should. Do you think you can live off of my paychecks from Magnussen? JM

I'd like a bit more detail than that please. JM

I can live off them, but that's rather beside the point. More detail? Well I slapped him in the face. -SM

How is it beside the point? It needs to be taken care of. JM

I don't work for him just for money to live off. If that was all I'd work as a bouncer. -SM

You want to stop being an obstinate shit and explain /why/? Or what happened with Darren maybe? JM

Ah fuck, can't you let me enjoy this for one second? That scene just ... took me back a bit. That's all. With the new kid. He didn't give you any hell did he? -SM

Sherlock? No. That wouldn't be wise seeing as we're roommates for the foreseeable future. JM

You can enjoy this on your own time, I need to get shit settled as soon as possible. JM

So Mags fucked with your head, pushed too hard. And? JM 

Just - fuck the last time I was in that situation, naked and in trouble with a belt sting and a sore arse - I didn't fucking say a thing. Just let him rip me a new one. This time. Fuck that. Seeing you there, I wanted to be yours, not his. –SM 

You aren't making much sense. You're talking about Darren or Sherlock? JM

Mags. -SM

What, wait, why are you rooming with the new kid? What did Mags do, what did he say? -SM

Nothing, he wants us staying in the flat a few more days. JM

Thank fuck, I thought I'd got you into trouble. Oh shite, what am I going to do... -SM

Right. Well, CAM understands pretty clearly now who you belong to. Enjoy it. JM

Will you explain to me what your situation is now? JM

Fuck I'm sorry Jim I just, just didn't want to take his shit any more. I know I shouldn't have, but I'd just attacked Darren and yelled at my dad and fuck. -SM

You aren't making any sense. JM

I'm in debt. Generations of debt. Some of it with some pretty nasty people who don't accept 'going bankrupt' as an option. -SM

You don't have to be sorry, it's fine. I just need to know what's going on so I can control the situation. JM

Okay, until now you've been paying them with your salary from Mags? JM

No, Mags has been paying them. I don't know how much, I don't know how often. -SM

But at least this time I want to leave. He's let me go before and I just get bored and stressed and want Darren. -SM

Well if you can hold out for sex until Saturday I can come by after work. If you fuck Darren after all of this I really am going to smack you. JM

You need to get in contact with the people you still owe money to, ask how much they need to be paid and how often. Send me their numbers if you have to. We can work something out. JM

Fuck. I - yeah. Sure. I'll start getting them together. Wish it had been you. Paddling me. -SM

You'll have plenty of wank material until Saturday. JM

Get a job. Find some evening gigs bouncing or whatever. I'll see what I can do on my end. JM

I don't - I'm not that fucking pathetic. I'm not going back. Jim, I'm not going back. -SM

Good. I don't want you to go back. I know you aren't pathetic I just-- I need you to help me get this shit figured out because if we sit on our hands you really might have to and I don't want to see the kind of shape Mags leaves you in if that happens. JM

I mean it, make calls, find old friends, talk to people at clubs that you frequent. You need to get as much money as possible as quickly as possible to provide a cushion. I know numbers aren't your thing, they are mine. I'm fucking brilliant with maths and that includes finances. I'd rather handle this myself than have you get played or jerked around. JM

Yeah, I'll try and get in touch with them. Should be ... manageable. Bet they prefer working with Mags though. Let me know if that kid gives you a bad time. And watch out, he's a total junkie, don't let him give you anything. -SM

How do you know he's a junkie? JM

Seen his eyes. Poor Mycroft - did you know I went to school with him? I remember that kid when he was eight. Ha. Yeah, I'll call in all the favours. Won't be much though. -SM

Work favors not money borrowing favors. You don't need to owe anything on top of your father's debts. JM

You went to school with his brother? So his family is affluent then? JM

Bit awkward that. JM

Oh yeah. Not just affluent but fucking political. His brother's in government. Mycroft Holmes. -SM

Interesting. Take it that's why Mags wants him then. JM

Yep. I guess so. He's Mycroft's weak spot I'm guessing. And Mycroft's a knob - knowing his kid brother is into porn would be worth it just to see his face. –SM 

Mags implied that Sherlock has been working in the industry for a while. I'm sure it's not a surprise. JM 

That explains it. He was very good. Haven't been paddled like that in a long while. Like I said with all the school and stuff it made me ... think of Dad. -SM

Magnussen should know better than to fuck with his people's heads like that. He was bloody pissed but it's his own fault. Everything about that was calculated to get you to lose your shit, he just didn't expect you to take it out on him. JM

He thought I'd let Darren sort it out. Usually do. But I promised you. -SM

Are you going to be okay or do you need me to come over? JM

Don't come over if it'll piss him off. I'll be fine. I'm not about to go back to Darren. -SM

Okay. Just focus on finding work and taking care of yourself (don't drink, feed yourself, sleep.) JM

Heh, is that an order, boss? –SM 

You did fine, don't worry about it. You did exactly as I asked you to. JM

Yes. It is. I really will kick your arse if you drop the ball on this Moran. JM

I fucking hate this. JM 

Better make sure I stay with it then. Don't you worry boss, that Holmes kid lays one finger on you I'll swoop in and rescue you. –SM 

Yeah well good luck with that. I think Mags expects us to fuck like rabbits over the next few days. Basically that's why I'm here. Besides isolating you. Jesus. JM 

Pity you can't film it really. -SM

Fuck off, I'm not happy about it either. JM

Yeah, yeah, calm down boss alright? I'll sort my debts out and get you a list or some shit. I'll easily find work as a bouncer. You just survive and spend Mags's money -SM

I'm going to rent about a billion porn flicks just to fuck with him. JM

Not really. I'm on thin ice. JM

Relax and empty the mini-bar. He's given you this time. Fucking use it to think. -SM

Right cause it's so easy to think when I'm fucking stuck here with this poncy fuck and the Neanderthal and I've got nothing to distract me. JM

Sorry. JM

If you can't sort yourself out in a warm snazzy flat with plenty of food and no one shooting at you then I might as well pick up and crawl back to Darren... -SM

Seriously? JM

Don't fuck with me right now Moran, I'm not in the mood. JM

Mags didn't want that to happen. It happened. Do you have any idea how much that does not happen. We're ahead, for just a moment here. If that's not enough to give you a boost what is? -SM

Yeah, you are right, forget I said anything. JM

Nah 's fine that was... a lot to deal with. See you on Saturday. –SM

I'll text you if anything changes. Get me that contact info before Mags calls and tells them to go break your knee caps. JM

 

Jim frowned and tossed his phone away, irritated and slightly nervous to see that his message didn’t get through. Fucks sake, this was all he needed. It had taken a force of will not to let his anxiety spill out through all of his texts and he’d done a fair bit of lying to get through the conversation. He didn’t need Sebastian freaking out more than he probably already was. Jim had that covered all on his own. He didn’t know how much Sebastian had really thought out the implications of his actions so far, or if he ever would. Jim had. And Jim understood that he was pretty well fucked. 

First there was Magnussen. Now Jim had just taken a major piece from him but he couldn’t use that piece anymore either. Jim was going to be alone on set, and while Mags never would have admitted it, he’d been pulling punches for Jim because he was afraid of pushing Jim and losing Sebastian. Well that ship sailed and Jim no longer had that leverage or physical protection. Mags had stopped putting Jim in shitty scenes because he’d seen that Sebastian wouldn’t stand for it, to a point. Now there was nothing to keep him from being paired with Darren until the mad fucker did irreparable damage to his body. 

Then there was Sebastian’s debts and that was an animal Jim didn’t even have any concrete information on. He was pretty sure they could cover it. If Jim cashed his checks from Mags, if he picked up another job in Oxford, if Sebastian worked two jobs as well, then that should be enough to cover some of Sebastian’s expenses and please the collectors. Maybe. The truth was Jim really had no idea how much he’d need to scrape together and that bothered him. A constant tally of living expenses and things they could cut back on ran behind his eyes. Jim exhaled sharply and leaned back, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

Sherlock looked across at him, eyes interested and wary. He was still trying to work out the relationships between everyone he'd met so far. It seemed unnecessarily complex for a group of porn actors and he wasn't very impressed at Magnussen, who seemed to be over-complicating things for the sake of it. Thankfully, even though he'd been left here to have sex with the student, he didn't seem particularly to want it, which suited Sherlock fine. Padding over to the minibar he took out a small packet of nuts, opening them and then losing his appetite, curling himself up on the sofa and trying to see if he could land any of them directly into the waste-paper bin. 

“Sorry you got roped into this,” Jim muttered from behind his hands. He’d been tracking Sherlock’s movements for the last hour while he ran statistics and tactics in his head. “You’re just here to keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t off myself or something. Don’t know why he’d care.” Jim’s high had been depressingly short, probably because of his mood. He was in the black phase now and it showed. 

"He doesn't" Sherlock responded, almost automatically. "He doesn't care about you really at all. He just wants you drugged and obedient because you're pretty." He threw another nut, more of them starting to clatter inside the bin. He added after a while, "I don't care either. You're an idiot for getting into this." 

Jim smiled a bit hysterically at the criticism, like it was his fault he was here right now. “Yeah you’re probably right. So genius, what do you think I should do then, since you’re so fucking smart? Detox and hope it’s enough before Saturday? Off Darren before he can be used against me? Off Cam and spend the rest of my life in prison, where it’s a hell of a lot worse? Drop out of school now while I’m ahead and can go back or should I just wait for the inevitable when I’m kicked out for any number of things I’ve done recently? Really, I’m all ears here. You’ve obviously done /so/ well at making your own decisions. Please, enlighten me with your ultimate wisdom.” 

Sherlock rolled over and looked at him critically, up and down before saying in a sort of empty monotone. "Your name isn't Richard Brook, that much is obvious, you're a student, studying astronomy, second year at university, not here - either Oxford or - no, Oxford. College either Magdalene or Oriel. You had very little support from your parents even before you went to college, now you've practically none, I suspect you're on a bursary. Originally from Ireland, you lived there a few years but only when you were small, haven't been back to visit ..." he frowned a little more intensely. "Until recently you were a virgin, given our line of work I initially suspected that Magnussen had arranged for you to lose it, but no, you had your first time with someone you cared for ... I suspect that Moran character given he's the only one who seems to give the time of day to you." He looked at Jim belligerently. "Don't bother asking me what you /should/ do. All I know is who you are." 

Jim smiled a bit despite himself, interested in the game. “Of course my name’s not Richard Brook, I’m a young man with potential and high prospects” he said sarcastically “I’d never use my real name. I am a student, but I told you that. The astronomy bit was good, but it’s a double major with mathematics. Oxford is right too. I’m there on a bursary because I’m an orphan. I was in Ireland until I aged out of the system, so a fair more than a few years.” Jim smirked a bit, pleased that he was ambiguous enough that Sherlock hadn’t been able to get everything right. “I lost my virginity at fifteen and was in a serious relationship until fairly recently.” Jim tilted his head, condescendingly. “Your magic tricks are pretty but I’m afraid you’ve struck out. Forget I asked.” He laid down on his back across the couch cushions and stared up at the ceiling despondently. 

"An orphan..." Sherlock gave him a considered sort of look. He was still working on deduction, but he was annoyed he'd mixed up astronomy and mathematics. He'd assumed someone like Jim would go for a more practical subject. "That must mean that it was your previous boyfriend who used to beat you. Rather than your father." He raised an eyebrow, "I know some interesting things about Moran's father." 

“Please,” Jim scoffed lightly. “Do I seem the sort to stay in an abusive relationship?” Jim looked over at Sherlock dully. “Unless you know where he stashed all of his wealth and worldly possessions, I honestly don’t really care. If I was that interested in him I’d just ask Sebastian.” 

"Yes, you do seem the type. That's why you're with Magnussen." Sherlock yawned and rolled over. "His wealth is in a Swiss bank account I suspect. He was an interesting man if you think scandal and fame are interesting things. I don't." 

“Right…” Jim trailed off, not really sure if Sherlock was aware that the actors and probably half the crew were blackmailed into being there. Not really similar circumstances. “If you want to use your magic tricks to figure out the account number and password I’d be eternally grateful.” 

Sherlock thought for a moment, really at the moment all he was doing was showing off to this irritating college student. He didn't care particularly about Magnussen, Jim, or anything else. "You'll need a number, a password, a pass-code, a key and a fingerprint scan. Given that Moran Sr. is now deceased you might find that all a bit difficult. I have no idea what happens to Swiss Bank Accounts when their owners pass on. Nor do I care. Please shut up now, I want to sleep." 

Jim rolled his eyes apathetically. This kid was useless. He got up and stumbled to the bathroom. Maybe he’d take a bath. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The four days in the hotel were mind numbingly dull for Sherlock, stuck alone with Jim, who seemed to be crawling up the walls. On the other hand it was a relief to just take the drugs he needed and relax in the warm. The day before the shoot, he looked across at Jim in the morning and sighed, "Look - we should try it out. Make sure we can do this scene he wants." 

Jim shrugged and put down the book he was pretending to read. Sebastian hadn’t contacted him in four days and Jim swore he’d smack him next time he saw the man. Jesus. He couldn’t even scrounge for change and a fucking pay phone? He tried to put it out of his mind for now and actually went over what Sherlock said. He nodded and started to take his shirt off, “Fine.” He just wanted to get this over with. 

"Stop sulking just because your boyfriend won't get in touch with you." Sherlock snapped with just a hint of impatience. Coming over he ran his hands over Jim's chest. Clinically and professionally. "He said you were bad at acting, how many films have you done?" 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jim replied automatically. He scowled a bit at the reminder of Magnussen. “I’m not a bad actor, you should see my Hamlet.” Jim bit out sarcastically. “Four… and a half.” Jim answered truthfully, counting his scene with Dr. Watson as a half. “Only one of those was worth anything and I only got all the way through two of them, one of those I was cut from. I think some of one got put in a blooper reel.” Jim was enjoying the look of disbelief on Sherlock’s face. 

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, "How hard is acting in porn that you managed to fail it? Alright, we have to be living rough - but in a sexy way. So more like two models just left out in the rain." His body began to move and shape automatically, taking on the persona, sitting on the bed and tugging Jim's hand shyly. "A cold night, probably, raining, dark, and we're curled up somewhere with a bit of shelter." 

Jim was pretty irritated by this plot device, he’d run away and been kicked out of homes before, never for long before he came crawling back or got picked up off the street but he’d spend a fair few nights freezing his arse off in the snow and getting rained on—enough to know this premise was fucking ridiculous. Mags and his kink for sad and impoverished fucks… “Yeah, alright.” Jim curled up into a closed off position with his chin on his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs, hunkered down like he was sitting under low shelter. 

Sherlock looked at him and then tapped his shoulder gently, "You think I haven't? I know that 'homeless hobo' is about as un-sexy as it gets. This is porn acting, not reality. In reality any teacher trying what I'd tried with your Moran would be arrested for abuse. Uncurl, look pathetic, let your eyes light up when I come closer, pull me in for warmth." 

Jim scoffed a bit but he tried to relax and unwind himself, leaning back on his elbows instead of pulling up walls and barriers with his limbs. “Cause it’s so difficult for me to look pathetic right now?” Jim teased, fairly surprised the man hadn’t tried to insult him with that. Maybe he was finally playing nice. When Sherlock came on to him this time Jim was more receptive and he wrapped an arm over his chest and hid his face in his neck. 

Sherlock started patting him, rubbing hands over his body, "You're freezing ... how long have you been out here?" He asked in a concerned voice, gently starting to kiss at Jim's neck and face, "Come here..." he pulled Jim between gangly long legs, looking at him with wide eyes and then frowned, "How does this work with a camera? Where is the camera. That's going to be confusing..." 

Jim shrugged, slightly uncomfortable doing something… intimate with this man. Sex was fine but Jim could count on one hand the number of times he’d been held like this since his parents died. It was awkward. “Seb always seems to know. I’d guess there’s going to be two, maybe three. To get all the angles you need in one shot you’d need three, one center, one from the left and one from the right to get both of our perspectives. I’m not sure what they’ll do though. This is probably okay.” Jim paused and then raised the pitch of his voice, making him sound a lot younger than he was. “It’s so cold. I’ve been out here for—ages.” 

"It's tough the first night..." Sherlock rubbed at his shoulders, once again shutting off the thinking part of his brain by letting it examine Jim's shirtless body, fading bruises, old scars. "C'mon I'll show you a way to keep really warm." He sighed shaking his head, "Do people really talk like this? Alright ... Come closer..." he started to rub at Jim's cock, "You should probably be hard by now." 

Jim let out a surprised laugh, “If anyone had come onto me like this I would have been out of there in a blink. You can keep warm running for your life, no street kid could accept this shit. Guess that’s why I’m a fresh one, don’t know any better yet.” Jim grimaced for having said all of that. Sherlock rubbed at his cock and Jim sighed, frustrated. “Sorry I don’t—really get hard like this. If you’d rather we can wait until set where they’ve got enhancers. It’s not really important if I get hard for a rehearsal.”

Sherlock looked up at him, eyes knowingly meeting his and then looked away with a little mutter "It was different, on the streets ... two little twinks cuddled up together would have been ripped apart..." He let go of Jim's cock and just huddled up next to him, arms and legs all long limbed, "It's not even cold it's just ... comfort." He was playing a different role now - changing to try and find something that Jim could be comfortable with, and then have sex with. He wasn't about to have his first time with Jim on a film set, and most likely need to repeat the shot multiple times before he was allowed his fix. 

Jim relaxed marginally now that he wasn’t expected to get hard on command. He inhaled and smelled the shampoo that was provided in the flat and aftershave, slight mint from Sherlock brushing his teeth earlier that morning. “I’m trying.” He said, “I’m thinking too much. This should be easy and simple, familiar even. It’s just not.” Jim was being honest but he didn’t really know how to explain the mess of anxiety and humiliation he felt almost every time he had to do a scene. 

"If you expect it to be familiar it won't be." Sherlock said frankly, "There's nothing on earth like acting during sex. You have to shut yourself off. You're still thinking of yourself as you, being in porn. Don't. Be Richard Brook. Richard Brook is the porn star. Richard Brook is a flirty little thing who lives sex, and /wants/ sex and thinks sex is the /best thing/..." He hesitated, not very good at this sort of talk. "Richard Brook thinks that pretending to be a little homeless slut is wonderful ... he wants to strip and cuddle and roll around. You don't need to want it. You can even hate it. But lock yourself away and let Richard take over because he loves it..."

Jim nodded hesitantly, not really sure how to do that but willing to try. He had to stop fucking around with this stuff or he was going to be in even deeper shit than he already was. Jim bent down and kissed Sherlock on the mouth, searching for something. Like he could find the answers he was looking for in the other man’s body but if he looked too quickly he would miss it. 

Sherlock was a bit surprised, but happy to accept it, wrapping his arms around Jim's naked body and holding him tight, his tongue sliding into Jim's mouth, while he stroked and petted him. "Mmm ..." he managed when they split, "W-wow that was amazing. N-no one's ever kissed me like that..." he kept his eyes wide, lips flushed and hair mussed, still very much in character. 

Jim flushed defensively, still not used to anyone complimenting him on technique. It wasn’t a surprise, he’d had limited experience before he’d gotten here and since then everyone had done nothing but tell him how bad he was. Carl had liked to go on about how substandard Jim was in bed, after a while it stopped phasing him but compliments were always a surprise, even if they were delivered as lines. “Yeah, alright.” He exhaled and tried to focus on burying those feelings. “You’re beautiful,” Jim said. “Like an angel. Like Lucifer.” 

"Lucifer was the brightest of angels..." Sherlock kissed him again, pressing cold lips gently against his bottom lip. "Until he fell. That's it. You're doing well. Just Richard ... that's all that needs to be here, the rest of you can go ... somewhere else." He gave Jim an encouraging smile, gently running the backs of his nails down Jim's sides and giving a little giggle, "It might be fun filming with you." 

Jim felt a bit dull and distant from what was going on, he needed to balance letting go and not just going limp and lifeless like he had when he’d been bullied or when Carl—shit. Stop. These kinds of intrusive thoughts kept him from relaxing and staying in the moment. Fuck this scene, seriously. He let himself relax a bit more as he felt Sherlock scratch gently at his sides. “Why do you say that?” He asked. 

"You kiss nicely." Sherlock said simply, "A lot of the men I've been with, they don't. And you're not trying to take over, to inflict pain, to go off script." He scowled at the memory of Sebastian, even if he'd watched the man get more screwed up in his own head throughout the shoot. He turned his nails back to fingers and ran them over Jim's chest, "Your ex was such a bastard. He's fucked you up. At least Moran mostly fucked himself up. But that doesn't matter right now. Richard Brook doesn't have an ex, or a Moran. He just has the love for sex and the cute looks to pull it off. Richard?"

“Yeah?” It was almost a whisper it was so quiet. He didn’t—know how to feel about all of this or if he could even do it. He thought back to his scene with Paul, to the way he’d been able to mostly relax and just get on with it. The college twinks scene didn’t have nearly as much personal history behind it as this one did but Jim thought he could recreate the feeling anyway. “My shoulder’s fucked up,” Jim remembered. “It’s out of a sling now but it’s not healed all the way yet, just be careful not to yank on it?” 

"I won't touch it." Sherlock promised, giving him a shy little smile before, giving him another little cuddle, "Um ... can I suck you off?" he flushed as he said it, he had long ago learnt how to blush on command and this seemed a good moment, "I-it's fine if you don't want that, I know you're trying pretty hard not to freak out, but I really want to and ... I think I'd enjoy it." 

Jim calmed a bit, this character was less threatening than Sherlock, the homeless kid wasn’t bringing up shit that Jim would rather leave untouched and forgotten. “Yeah, I’d like that.” He said simply, trying for a bit more confidence in his tone. 

Sherlock smiled again, pleased he was relaxing, and figuring that as most people found him annoying and irritating, Jim might prefer it if he was acting somebody more dumb. He never understood that. He rubbed at Jim’s cock again, it was still soft but this time he just gave Jim a cheeky, sultry smile and mouthed at it under the pajamas, teasing and encouraging it to harden. 

Jim inhaled sharply and flushed as Sherlock smiled at his reaction. It wasn’t—bad though, this was fine. As Sherlock continued he tried to let go more and eventually felt comfortable enough to start actually acting as his cock hardened. “Please, I want to feel your mouth on me.” Jim said in that high tone, fisting the sheets between his hands. 

"Mmmm ... wow, you feel amazing..." Sherlock moaned gently, reaching up with slender hands to slide his pajamas down slowly, inhaling the scent and then sliding his tongue around Jim's cock. This was no Sebastian Moran, who had taken it all in at once, this was teasing, careful, practiced, designed to get Jim harder and hopefully keep him there as long as possible. All the while Sherlock glanced up, trying to gauge whether Jim's reaction would be suitable for Mags. 

“I think—ahh, that’s my line.” Jim teased. He hissed and moaned appropriately, which wasn’t to say that Sherlock wasn’t good and didn’t earn quite a few of those reactions, Jim just wasn’t naturally very vocal. But Richard was, or would be—whatever. “That feels—good.” His breath caught a little and he watched Sherlock work, enjoying the view just a bit. 

Sherlock gave an encouraging little moan back, pleased as he felt Jim relax, he could see the other boy looking him over and reached down to wriggle his pajama bottoms down to his ankles, starting to suck gently on Jim's cock, bobbing his head up and down as he went. It actually didn't feel too bad compared to some of his clients, but either way, most of him was still safely locked up in the biggest room in his head, going through data, counting, connecting, working, while the rest of him got on with the business. 

Jim knew this scene was meant to be a bit cuddlier than other scenes he’d done so he reached down and ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair, careful not to grab or snag his fingers on any of the curls. It looked a lot nicer now that it was washed and cared for the last few days. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, with more feeling this time. Sherlock /was/ beautiful, lithe and thin with pale skin and legs that went on for miles. Jim groaned and let himself drift off on the sensations of Sherlock’s mouth on his cock, let the minutes pass without noticing. 

"Thank you..." Sherlock whispered into his cock - and this was another reason he needed to lock most of himself away, so the little moments of tenderness didn't cut him loose and drift him out into a lost unfriendly sea. He concentrated on sucking, sliding his tongue and lips around everywhere, rather pleased that Jim was still hard and relaxed. He let his body arch, trying to pretend he was folded in a doorway and idly wondering whether it was because they both had been homeless that Magnussen was making them do this. 

“That’s—that’s good, I think.” Jim muttered out eventually. He was hard now and felt like he could stay that way for a while. He was a lot more relaxed than he had been at the beginning, his eyes dilated and his mouth was wet and pink from gnawing at it. “Do you want—do you want to? Have sex?” Jim asked in the high tone, doing his best to look hopeful and excited at the prospect. Not all of it was faked, just perhaps the high level of enthusiasm. 

Sherlock pulled away from his cock, with equal excitement sparkling in his eyes, "Mmm ... yes ..." He kept one hand stroking Jim's cock, while the other went to his own, making sure it was still hard and would remain so. He picked up the lube from the bedside table and gave Jim a teasing grin, "Isn't it funny how whether we're in ancient Rome, schoolrooms or abandoned doorways, somehow there's always lube handy." 

Jim laughed and rolled his eyes, “You know I thought the same till I had to do a scene without. I’ve been too grateful to question it as much since then. Although I think for this one they might have to get creative.” Jim watched Sherlock’s movements for a moment, drawn to his hands. “How do you want me then? What position do you think they’ll want?” 

"If we're getting all cute and cuddly, probably just one on top, does that sound right?" he was trying to involve Jim as much in the decision as possible, to bolster his confidence and control in the scene, "Or spooning maybe? But that might be hard to film, gosh I'm no good at this filming business, you're the expert. Shall we try one on top?" 

Jim nodded, feeling a bit better getting to discuss it instead of being told what to do by Magnussen. “Probably want me on my back then? It’s a bit too rough if you put me on my stomach.” Jim lay back, no longer supporting himself on his elbows, trying to get a position he thought Sherlock could do. “I can wrap a leg around you after you’re inside me. It’s more intimate looking I think.” 

"Good idea." Sherlock smiled at him gently again, while the rest of his mind ran through prime numbers, trying to see how high he could go. "Are you sure you're alright with me going inside you?" He moved on top of Jim, sliding a hand down his stomach, "I wouldn't want to hurt you - you deserve something that feels good." He reached down and kissed lightly along Jim's stomach, "I want to make you feel good." 

“Y-yeah.” Jim’s voice came out breathy but he made sure it was loud enough that it would get picked up on camera. “Of course you’ll feel good. You won’t hurt me—I can take it.” Jim blinked and shivered a little despite himself. 

Sherlock pressed his fingers against Jim's lips, then decided that Jim probably wasn't ready to have fingers shoved in his mouth and so instead licked them himself, long licks that covered the whole fingers, sliding the liquid around to act as lube. "Keep close to me, keep warm..." he pressed his body against Jim's and then slowly pressed one slender finger inside him, watching his face at all times. 

Jim’s breath caught watching Sherlock mouth at his own fingers, it was reminiscent of what he had been doing a moment ago to Jim’s cock. He moaned encouragingly as Sherlock pressed one of those fingers inside him, tilting his head and arching his back a little off the mattress. “O-okay. Feels good.” He gasped out, trying to think of something to distract himself with as they got closer to the big event. 

Sherlock bent down as the finger squirmed and pressed inside him, licking at Jim's ear and whispering, "Go ... go down, go deep and hide. I don't want to fuck you, I just want to fuck Richard..." He gave a playful giggle and then pressed in a second finger, stretching them both to get Jim ready, "Mmmm ... o-ohhhh it feels so good ... I-I want to get inside you..." 

Jim stilled in shock. That was a pretty fucking awful thing to say when in the middle of something so intimate. He’d heard worse but it was always accompanied by violence and roughness, this gentle tenderness they were acting out had left him vulnerable. Jim had never been fucked like this before, Sebastian came closest but it was still worlds away from the care that was being shown in this scene and a starved part of Jim had eaten that up. But that was the fucking point, wasn’t it? This wasn’t intimate. This wasn’t for Jim. They were practicing so tomorrow they could fuck in front of a crew and Magnussen, who would record it for other people to get off on. As the realization hit, Jim felt like he’d been standing backwards on a diving board and he was pushed off, falling backwards until he hit the water and sunk under the surface. He wouldn’t come up again. “I want you—want you too.” He gasped. “I can’t wait, hurry, please.” 

Sherlock watched his expression. Maybe once he would have felt sad, but now he just had one aim - pleasing Magnussen and acquiring drugs. For that, he needed Jim acting, no matter what state his mind or self was in. Sliding his fingers out, he slid the saliva along his cock and tenderly kissed Jim's ear before pressing gently inside, "Shhh ... it's alright, you're doing well. C'mon..." his hands slid along Jim's body, practiced and gentle, pleasuring with each touch.

Richard hissed feeling the intrusion, spit really wasn’t a substitute for lube but he had done this before. It was fine. Just a bit more of a stretch than he was used to anymore. He moaned loudly and reached out and touched Sherlock’s chest, running his hands across his pectorals and that thin waist. “That’s good.” He said, moaning a bit on the last word. “Keep going. I want to feel you move.” 

Sherlock left it a few seconds and then moaned back, starting to pump his hips, starting slow and speeding up, "O-ohhh yes, oh Richard..." he gasped, just as a reminder, not wanting Jim to loose himself in the love and feelings that were all acted. The hand along his chest made him shiver and he pressed closer, "Mmm ... like that .. wow..." He started pumping faster, knowing they'd have to keep going longer tomorrow. 

Richard panted with need, rolling his hips up to meet Sherlock’s thrusts, “Yeah, like that. Feels good. I need more, please.” Richard wrapped one of his legs over Sherlock’s hip, pulling him in tighter, going for that intimate look. He bent up and kissed Sherlock slowly, exploring the other man’s mouth. 

Sherlock opened his mouth obediently, arching his body around the leg in a way that was no entirely comfortable, but he knew looked good to an observer, so probably looked good on camera, his hips kept pumping away, moaning and gasping, "A-ahh, ah yes!" 

He continued to move his body slowly, his hands, his tongue, his hips. Everything was sticky and sweet like syrup. Richard thought it would be easy to get stuck in it. “Ah-ah, you’re so warm. God, yes!” 

"Mmmm feel so good..." Sherlock moaned back encouragingly, getting faster, moaning quickly, hands scrabbling at Jim's body, "Need you..." He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Jim's chest and building himself up to cum. It always took a bit of concentration but he was now able to do it on demand. 

Richard clenched down around Sherlock tightly and took over a lot of the movement while Sherlock concentrated. “That’s right baby, come inside me.” Sherlock was /good/ at this and Richard was close to losing it himself. He reached down and started stroking himself off quickly, hoping to come near enough to Sherlock. 

Sherlock gave a small nod as he saw Jim stroking himself and moaned, "Mmm ... yeah ... wanna spill deep inside you..." A bit more concentration, a few hard thrusts and then he was cumming, moaning and arching sexily, getting a job done as he did every week, emptying himself into Jim and moaning out Richards name.

Richard stroked himself until he came a few moments later, arching up off the mattress and moaning. He breathed, working to get back under control and opened his eyes. He wiped himself off with the sheets and sat up, ready to be clean and willing to spend an hour in the shower to do that. “Is that up to your standards then?” He asked, wanting to get this over with now, rather than later. 

Sherlock moved away, sitting up in the bed with the sheet draped over him like a classical painting. He waited for Jim to recover then nodded, "I suppose so. Let's hope it's up to Cam's." And then, because Jim was looking fairly rough, "It was good, you did really well. I just hope I'm performing alright for a camera, I'm not used to that." 

“Sebastian said you’re very good, that’s high praise from him. He worked for CAM for a long time, he knows what he likes.” Jim didn’t want to reply to Sherlock’s compliment not when he felt hollow like the nausea had eaten away his insides like acid. “Are there anymore drugs left?” 

Sherlock gave a grin, "Now you're getting the hang of it. Bath first, then drugs, otherwise you'll never get clean." Sherlock headed over to the table where the drugs were kept and pulled out the syringe and the little heater and powder. He gave Jim a wan sort of smile, the first real one so far. "I'll get everything ready, I can inject you again if you like. You'll get used to it." 

Jim nodded absentmindedly and walked to the bathroom, turning the water on cold and stood under it for a number of shivering minutes before pulling his shit together. When he felt like he could move again he warmed up the temperature and cleaned himself thoroughly, even though a pessimistic part of him didn’t really see the point. His practical side refused to walk around smelling like sex, even if he had to take a hundred showers. When he was through he dressed only in a pair of sweats, barely taking time to dry off. Jim came out with his hair still dripping and sat down across from the man, not speaking. 

Sherlock had filled the syringe and gave a little nod, picking up the tourniquet and tying it around Jim's arm, tapping on the vein and stroking it gently before putting the needle in. "Don't worry..." he muttered, hair messily covering his eyes, "It gets easier. This stuff helps, I know you don't want to take it but really it ... helps. Helps stop everything shining so brightly and thinking so much." 

Jim just nodded, not flinching as the needle slid in. “I didn’t know what it was. The first time. He started me on oxy and I didn’t even think to ask what it was—I was in so much pain and I just took it. After that I didn’t want to ask. How fucking stupid can you get?” Jim smiled humorlessly as he watched Sherlock work. It was soothing somehow. Jim had been taking—a lot. More than he knew he should be, especially since he was going to detox the first chance he got, but being locked in this room with nothing to do except worry and wait to hear from Sebastian had been intolerable. The drug was the only thing he’d had to look forward to during these last few days. 

"I can't even remember what I started on." Sherlock lay back, his arm twitching and tensing slightly. "Without something it's too easy to care, too easy to get all worked up and involved." He sighed, and looked sideways at Jim. "He doesn't think much of me, your Moran, throwing away my life like this. Nobody does. But they never thought much of me when I told them the truth either. This way at least it's easier to deal with, and I don't like what alcohol does to me." 

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want Sherlock’s reassurances because that meant there was something fucked up. Jim didn’t not care because of the drugs, he didn’t care because there was nothing to care /for./ Jim also didn’t want to talk about Sebastian, not when he was still half convinced Magnussen had had Sebastian killed and his body was lying in a ditch somewhere. “Sorry,” he said instead, “that you’re here.” 

Sherlock shrugged again, closing his eyes as the hit started, "I've been in worse places, here is warm, and the shower is nice."


	11. The Truth Will Set You Free

Magnussen could tell from the start of the scene that the two of them had been practicing, and taking drugs together, during their time in the house. Jim seemed ... duller. More compliant. Posing and stretching for the camera, while Sherlock guided his cock inside, moaning and cumming prettily, no more snapped irritation or the bored blandness he'd faced with Paul. He did a slow clap as the scene finished, "Good. Very good. That's the sort of scene that I want to film." 

Sherlock nodded, pleased that Magnussen was happy and that the scene was a success despite his initial worries. Jim didn’t say anything or acknowledge the praise, just sat up and reached for his robe to cover himself. His heart beat echoed and reverberated in his chest until Jim thought he’d shake with it. “Sir,” he said. “I wanted to speak to you about something. I’ll shower and meet you in your office?” 

Magnussen raised an eyebrow but nodded, patting Jim's head. "Of course you may. Clear the set for Wayland and Darren." He called out to the camera man, before stalking back into his office. 

Jim and Sherlock both headed for the showers, Darren was there chatting awkwardly with John and Jim refused to look at either of them. He cleaned up as quickly as possible, not wanting any trouble. When he was dressed he stepped into Magnussen’s office and sat in his normal chair. He sat for a moment in silence, trying to gather his thoughts. 

Darren smirked as Jim appeared, "Aw ... lost your boytoy? You're not the only one - I miss having a nice muscular arse to smack around and fuck raw. Wayland here just doesn't cut it." John gave the far wall a look of supreme indifference and Darren rolled his eyes as Jim refused to respond. 

Magnussen looked up curiously as he entered, keeping his eyes fixed on Jim as he watched the boy trying to organize himself. "Is everything alright? Do you need something more?"

“Just more work,” Jim said quietly, looking somewhere over Magnussen’s shoulder. “Next term will start soon, I need extra money for my text books and things like that. I think you know that I was… living off campus, for free, until shortly before you contacted me. Living in the dorms is really eating into my loan money. I don’t want a hand out. I know with Sebastian gone now that you’re a bit short handed so to speak. I’d like more scenes, on the weekends. I know my track record isn’t the best but I’ve done two scenes now that have done well and I can promise that I’ll be consistent in that.” Jim sat there, trying not to fidget or betray how uncomfortable he was. 

Magnessun looked him over, coming across and crouching in front of him. He patted the side of Jim's cheek. "You did well today. Very well. Sherlock is good for you. Why don't you live with him here in the flat? It's only an hour to Oxford, you can commute for your lectures and classes. That way you can take what you need whenever you need it - you'll eat well and you'll have someone around to talk to. If you do that, I'll be happy to give you more work - especially work with Sherlock and Paul." 

Jim’s impulse was to refuse out of hand—he didn’t like it there and he wanted his own space. “Are you saying that if I’d rather keep my dorm room and live in Oxford that you won’t give me more than one scene a week?” Jim asked instead, trying to feel out how serious Magnussen was about this. 

Magnussen looked at him, weighing up things for a bit and then saying simply. "Yes. You have no more choices James Moriarty. I am letting you continue at Oxford, you should be thankful. They will be good scenes as well, your acting has improved and I am pleased with it." 

Jim could use this to his advantage—if he wasn’t paying for his dorm room anymore that was quite a lot of money that could be relocated. But the idea of living under Magnussen’s roof burned. “If I agreed, I would have to maintain my independence outside of work time. I understand if you have rules about the flat itself and what goes on there because it’s your property. However, I have to be allowed to leave and pursue my own interests and activities outside of work hours. I can’t do any more time like this week.” 

"Of course." Magnussen nodded, looking at him for a moment longer before blinking a few times and standing up, "You may come and go as you please, it's just a base for you to sleep in. However I would ask you to make sure nobody else visits or stays under that roof. The same applies to Sherlock, of course. Other than that you are free to do as you choose." 

Jim nodded, that was reasonable. “How many scenes will you give me a week? If I’m living at the flat my schedule is more flexible, I can work on weekdays.” 

"However many you want." Magnussen gave him a little smile which didn't reach his eyes. "Shall we say an extra one on Wednesday, and maybe a non-sex option for Tuesday. That gives you an extra two days for ... whatever purpose you need more money for..." he looked out the window for a second and then turned back. "You should know, while you were doing your superb acting Sebastian Moran attempted to approach the studio. He is not permitted to do this. If I ever see him around here again I will have him more permanently removed." His eyes glinted dangerously. "I would ask you to warn him but of course... you can't get in touch." 

“That sounds agreeable. I’ll move in as soon as I’m able to get my things relocated.” He’d be paying a fair amount on the daily train tickets but the money he’d save on food and shelter was too great to overlook. Besides, he’d gotten what he wanted. Nothing else really mattered. Jim all at once stilled and sagged in relief hearing that Sebastian was out there, even if he’d been stupid enough to try and get in the studio. “No one ever accused him of being very sensible.” Jim said, ignoring Magnussen’s jab about the disconnected phone line. 

"He's not." Magnussen answered dryly. "If he had any sense at all he'd have given you the number for the phone I didn't own. Although I'm sure he's contacted you with that already." He eyes gleamed, suggesting he knew the truth. "Last time he left it was two weeks before he returned. I thought that was quite impressive, particularly given the state he returned in ... and the state he was left in after his first shoot." Standing he opened the door. "You better clean up before the driver leaves." 

Jim shook his head, “I’m going back to Oxford for a couple days to pack my things. I’ll be back on Tuesday and I’ll move in then.” He grabbed his bag and stepped out of the office. 

Magnussen watched him leave, with an inscrutable expression on his face. He still wasn't sure whether he'd managed to break Jim of his annoying Sebastian-habit. And he'd lost his Tiger which he was pretty displeased about. He was beginning to wonder whether Jim had been more trouble than he was worth. Still it was early days yet. Soon Jim would be drugged and passive - turning up for shoots and spending the rest of his time in the flat with Sherlock, which could easily be downgraded to a smaller flat. And the Tiger would come crawling back, he was sure. 

Jim got outside and started walking toward the closest underground station, lost in thought. Even though this had logistically been a win, Jim still somehow felt like he’d lost ground. It was frustrating and maddening all at once. He was a few streets away from the studio when Sebastian’s jeep pulled up next to him. 

Sebastian opened the door of the jeep, giving a grin of relief as he saw Jim seemingly unharmed. Sebastian had a few bruises and scratches along his face but otherwise looked fine, taking Jim's shoulder and giving it a squeeze, then tugging him into a hug. "Fuck am I glad to see you. Thought Darren would have pulled you apart by now. How have you been, is everything alright? Can I hit Holmes for you?" 

Jim stilled and almost pulled away at the rush of contact, out of surprise more than anything. Despite himself, Jim felt a bit of the ice melt away and couldn’t decide if it was a relief or left him too exposed. “Everything’s fine, I’m working everything out.” Jim reached up for the scratches on Sebastian’s face but didn’t touch him. “The fuck did you do?” His tone was exasperated more than anything. Jim was having a hard time shaking the dullness of the last two days. Seeing Sebastian now was—odd, like watching black and white movies and then suddenly switching to color. A bit bright and loud but not unwelcome. 

Sebastian smirked at him, puffing up a bit. "Got a job, didn't I? I'm working as a bouncer for the semi-legal club in Tottenham. Takes up the evenings, and they let me crash upstairs during the day. Rest of the time I sleep in the jeep." He reached up, pushing a bit of hair out of Jim's face and rather taken by the urge to kiss him. "Fuck it's good to see you. I tried to meet you at the studio but Mags had the toughs out, think they expected it. Got a kiss for your non-disemboweled-by-Croatian's soldier?" 

Jim paused a moment after Sebastian had stopped speaking to process all he had said. It was jarring seeing the man in such high spirits when everything still felt so dire to Jim. Those pessimistic thoughts were overshadowed by Sebastian’s request. It was a kiss. It was fine. Jim had just been fucked by a practical stranger in front of other strangers for the viewing pleasure of millions of people Jim would never meet. He could kiss Sebastian. But he couldn’t. Fuck it, the idea sent Jim practically spinning into a panic. He couldn’t do it or Sebastian would see that Jim had broken glass behind his eyes. Sebastian couldn’t know. “I don’t have anything for people that don’t bother to call me.” Jim said smiling, going for teasing. “Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving.” Jim didn’t think he’d ever felt less hungry, bloated on Magnussen’s food, but it would distract Sebastian. 

"Yeah sure... uh... burger?" It was the cheapest thing he could think of with only two pounds rattling around in the glove compartment, and he hoped maybe he could just buy Jim a few chips or something. He was slightly upset at the lack of kiss, figuring he was still in trouble for storming out, and heading towards the nearest McDonalds, one arm still wrapped around Jim. "My phone fucking cancelled me mid-text." He grumbled, "Fucking Mags. I was out of my flat that evening as well, not Mags's men thank fuck, or they wouldn't have let me go back for my gear. Don't really have anything now, can't get benefits without an address and I'd rather not be all that contactable anyway." He grinned, "Been dodging mafia types for a while, but I think I've worked out who's owed what. Might just have to keep dodging them, bouncers don't own all that much." He steered Jim over to a free table and nodded at the board. "What do you fancy then?" 

Jim listened to Sebastian chat at him during the walk and allowed the arm around his shoulders even though something in his brain was screaming at him that Sebastian shouldn’t touch him. Jim just kept his hands in his pockets and focused on Sebastian’s voice instead. “Good,” Jim said when he heard the good news about the debt collectors. “Put them in contact with me and I’ll handle it. We’ll get you a proper flat in the next couple days once things are squared away and you don’t have to stay underground.” Jim looked up at the board vaguely and tried to think of something to order besides coffee. “I think I’ll have chips. Order what you like, you’re probably hungry. I got paid today so it’s all good.” 

Sebastian shook his head, still grinning, "Nah, 's fine. I'll get your chips." Scooting around in his pockets he found a few more coins, buying Jim a small chips and him a packet of nuggets. Coming back he handed them over, giving an anxious frown, "Sure you can handle it? I'm not having them marching up and threatening you. How was Sherlock?" He grinned and reached out to stroke Jim's cheek, "That little fucker knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" 

Jim frowned as Sebastian paid, despite the fact that he was obviously broke. He decided he’d never let Sebastian know how little of the man’s own money would be going towards his father’s debts. “Yeah, it’s fine.” Jim said, “They’re business men, they just want their money. As long as I can provide it on time they don’t won’t give me trouble.” Jim didn’t actually /know/ that but confidence was key here. There Sebastian was, touching him again. Jim held still and smiled, “Magnussen was happy with the scene.” That was all he really had to say on the subject because it was all that mattered. He took their things and went to sit at a table. 

Sebastian frowned again, sitting opposite Jim and slumping again, flinging a nugget into the air and catching it in his mouth. Somehow he'd expected to rock up and cuddle a desperate and eager little student - after most of the week on his own Sebastian was certainly up for sex, but Jim seemed sullen, annoyed. "What if you can't provide it on time?" Sebastian said, a little more seriously. "They'll break your kneecaps. If not worse. It's my problem, not yours. Your problem is getting away from Mags." As far as Sebatian was aware, that had been what they'd been trying to do. He'd succeeded, now Jim had to. The debts would sort themselves out. 

Jim shook his head and played with his food. “I think we can cover it. I’m not going to have you getting jerked around by these guys because you don’t know what you’re doing. What’s our outlook? How much are they expecting a month?” Jim tried for serious but not hopelessly glum. They could manage. They /could./ Jim was making good money from Cam and they could both work more if they had to. No one would have to get their kneecaps broken. 

Sebastian looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "In total? We're looking at a good hundred thousand. If you try to make that much your arse'll catch fire. CAM used to do jobs for them in lieu as well, I told you he was more than just a porn filmer. We can't offer them shit." 

“A month?” Jim breathed out faintly and his head spun as all of his carefully plotted figures and numbers fell from their places and burned. “Fuck,” he smacked his forehead down on the tabletop. “Will they accept partial payment? I can /maybe/ get half of that.” 

"Don't /worry/" Sebastian snapped, feeling pretty pathetic at the thought of a college student trying to pay for him. Coming over he sat next to Jim, tugging him onto his lap and glancing around to make sure they were mostly hidden. "I told you, 's my problem, you worry about your problems. And give me a damn kiss it's been almost a week." 

“I’ll rework the numbers.” Jim said as Sebastian pulled him into his lap, feeling claustrophobic. “We’ll pay as many people as we can, the most dangerous people first. The rest you’ll just have to avoid as much as possible. It will help if your new place is paid for under my name, they’ll be less likely to track you through me.” Jim paused in indecision but leaned down and pressed his lips against Sebastian’s carefully and closed his eyes, like maybe that would hide the broken glass. 

"I don't need a place ... I'm fine ..." Sebastian laughed, taking Jim's lips eagerly. It felt ... odd though. Wrong. Jim was shaking and closed off, uninterested and strange. Sebastian finished the kiss anyway, enjoying the taste of him and then letting him slide off his lap. "Alright boss, you're the boss." Tugging a notebook out of his pocket he handed it over. There's the names and contacts. Did the best I could without a phone. Money owed is mostly in there, but I've had to guess some.” 

Jim nodded and put the notebook in his bag without looking at it, knowing that if he went over the information now he’d be at it for a while and he didn’t want to waste this time. He wrapped his arms around Sebastian’s neck and leaned against the man’s chest, pressing their fronts together. “Do you—do you want me to suck you off in the bathroom? Or we can go back to the jeep? I just thought it might be a bit cramped.” 

Sebastian blinked at Jim's sudden change, and while before being sucked off in the bathrooms might have seemed a good idea, now it just seemed a bit grubby. Wrapping his arms around Jim he kissed the top of his hair, "Jeep. C'mon. If I can sleep in it, we can fuck in it. Eat your chips first." 

Jim blinked down at his chips in confusion. Sebastian was being… nice. He was normally nice but he seemed—different today. Softer. Not really what Jim had expected after not having sex in nearly a week. He’d been expecting to get thrown over the nearest flat surface, he was prepared for that. He wasn’t prepared for the- gentleness. It wasn’t bad or anything, just really strange- foreign. Jim bagged his chips, figuring that someone could eat them later and collected his things. “I’m—er, going to be living in the city. I’m moving here on Tuesday.” 

"Epic." Sebastian headed out, now unable to keep his hands off Jim, pressing and squeezing, pretty desperate. He opened the back seat of the jeep, frowning at the uneaten chips, and sliding up Jim's shirt, kissing at the skin underneath. "Mmmmm ... if I find a single bruise I'm going to thrash that Holmes kid." 

Jim sat down and laid back across the seat, trying to leave as much room as possible for Sebastian in the semi-cramped space. He smiled, “No bruises just a little sore. We did the homeless twinks scene and apparently you can get lube in ancient Greece but it pushes suspension of disbelief to think that homeless kids might have any.” 

"Homeless twinks - yeah because there's nothing sexier than a dosser." Sebastian rolled his eyes and patted at Jim's arse. "Well we'll leave that for Sherlock then, don't want to compromise your acting. Given it's bailing me out." He smiled, and tugged at Jim's shirt, trying to get it off, "Mmmm ... missed you a hell of a lot" 

“You can still fuck me, it’s fine. We’ve done it like this before. I don’t have another scene until Tuesday. Or I can suck you off, whatever you want.” Jim shifted to help Sebastian get his shirt off, not thinking beyond wanting to make sure Sebastian was happy. “I missed you too, you idiot. Thought I was going to go crazy this week.” 

"Yeah well what if I want a bit of fucking and sucking as well." Sebastian grumbled, kissing over Jim's body and quickly tugging his own shirt off, pulling Jim close and giving his mouth a proper kiss. "Mmm..." he paused as his hand ran over Jim's arm, looking down at the inside of his elbow and frowning. "The hell? What the hell is this...?” 

Jim didn’t realize what was wrong until he felt Sebastian’s fingertips brush over his track marks. He froze, trying to come up with a story or something but couldn’t think of anything plausible. God, it was going to look so bad. James Moriarty, genius intellect, Oxford student, couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He just started up at Sebastian hopelessly and waited for the fallout. 

Sebastian stared at him, the anger inside him turning into hopelessness as he saw Jim's face. Blank, empty - shit. That wasn't the face of someone who should be in here. In porn. And now in drugs. Jim was falling, falling pretty bad. Reaching back, he clicked the door of the jeep shut, then rubbed his thumb up and down the track marks. "You silly little sod." He couldn't even find it in him to sound particularly angry. "C'mon. We're leaving. Leaving here, leaving London, leaving Mags. And you're not sticking anything else in your veins for the next week at least." Tugging his hoodie off, he wrapped it around Jim and sighed. "And Christ alive you're not giving me a blowjob just to keep me happy. Sex happens when you want sex. If you don't want it I'll wank at the exhaust pipe. He lifted Jim over to the front and then climbed in the driver’s seat. "Any preference for a city?" 

“Sebastian, I can’t.” Jim gasped, even as he was being man handled. “I can’t just go. Please don’t do this.” Jim shook and tried to hold on to his dignity but his control slipped through his fingers like sand. He’d expected Sebastian to scream, to hit him, to leave. Not this. This was something Jim couldn’t handle. “I have classes and work. I can’t just leave, you know what he’s like about this shit.” He was terrified, torn between what he desperately wanted and afraid that he’d give in and suffer grievously for it when he returned. Afraid that if he didn’t go then Sebastian would leave and he’d never see him again. 

"Alright. Somewhere near Oxford then." Sebastian said agreeably, raising his eyebrows as Jim panicked next to him. When Jim brought up Magnussen he sighed, turning off the road and stopping the car, looking at Jim seriously, "You go back to Mags and you'll go back on drugs. He knows now that's the only way to control you, to keep you placid. And if you're on drugs, we are fucked. You think he'll let you finish that degree you're doing? Course not - he wants you to be his. The worst he can do is ship you to the cops - they won't be able to find you if you're in a jeep with a different name on the other side of the country. It’s your call. But I can't see a future in porn working out for either of us." 

Jim felt his eyes burn and pool over, he wiped at his eyes in frustration. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” He sighed and curled up on the seat, hiding his face in his knees. “Why are you doing this? You’re free you can do whatever you want to. If you want to leave so badly you should go. But why are you doing this for me? He’s not going to just let me go, he’ll follow us. The cops will follow us. Why are you willing to risk that for a whore and a junkie?” Jim’s voice wasn’t accusing or angry, just tired and dull. He knew the answer he’d get. Sebastian was reckless but not stupid, he’d figure out it was better to cut his losses. Better to do it now while Jim could still crawl back to Magnussen than later. 

"Free? I haven't been free since the moment my dad died in debt. You haven't been free since you drowned your damn annoying ex." Sebastian started the jeep again and headed towards the motorway towards Oxford. "He'll follow us, cops will follow us, mafia will follow us, maybe we can get them to attack each other, yeah?" He grinned, tugging his hoodie back up over Jim to keep him warm. "Mags thinks you're a whore and a junkie. I think you're a bloody amazing young man with the potential to go pretty damn far. I also think you're sex on legs, but that's not related. You're going to have a rough week coming up, but it'll be worth it to come out the other end, trust me." 

Jim did cry then but he kept his face buried in his knees so Sebastian wouldn’t see. “Okay.” He muttered, somehow agreeing to everything and nothing in particular at once. Being bold about this decision felt too much like signing on for months of Darren when he was dragged back here. “I’ve—been taking opioids. Not for long, just since my shoulder, but I’ve taken—a lot since then.” He bit back on the apology that wanted to work its way out but he refused to be quite that pathetic. God, Sebastian was being so understanding it just made him want to die of humiliation. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him. But that was the kind of attitude that got him in trouble in the first place. 

Opioids, shit, he'd been rather hoping it hadn't been. Sebastian bit back an angry snarl and instead rolled his eyes, "Well I can sit here and tell you what a stupid little fucker you are but hell, Mags is hard to beat isn't he?" He knew there was still an even chance one or both of them would snap, and run back to him, but for now they were away, and every second made it easier to stay away. "We can go cold turkey if it's only been a week. You'll survive." He grinned as they started to head out of London. 

Jim shook his head numbly and looked up. “I didn’t start at the flat, Seb. It wasn’t Sherlock’s bad influence or anything. I was taking oxy before this. It’s been more than two weeks since Darren broke my arm.” He looked over at Sebastian. That crazy fucker was smiling. 

"Two weeks is still fine. It's if you've been taking it for months or years then we need to worry." The grin increase and he turned to look at Jim, keeping one eye on the road. "We're doing it, alright? Getting away, away from /him/. It's like... you ever hear that story? About that fucker who tried to kill himself jumping off a bridge? Well he failed, but they asked him after that when he jumped off he suddenly realised that all his problems, /all/ of them were solvable. Except the fact that he was hurtling off a bridge. That's what we are now - only problem we've got in the world is Mags and now we've buggered off. Stick some music on - tapes are in the side."

Jim couldn’t help but respond with a small smile of his own. “You’re actually fucking crazy. To think, I told Paul that’s what I like about you. Jesus, /I’m mad./” Jim grabbed a random tape but held onto it. “You aren’t… angry with me? I really fucked up and then I lied to you about it. I mean how many times have you seen me in the last few weeks? And every single time I was high out of my mind and you kept /telling me/ Magnussen was going to fuck me over and I didn’t tell you I was already in trouble.” Jim sighed and curled up again. “It felt so complicated and like I was doing what was best for both of us but now it just seems fucking stupid. You know I was going to move into his flat? With Sherlock and a practically unlimited supply. Jesus.” Jim felt like he had to say everything, get it all off his chest while he could. 

"Nah. Angry, yeah, but not at you." Surprisingly it was true. He couldn't blame Jim for letting Magnussen control him, not when he'd only just been starting to see how much he'd been controlled himself. "He had me begging Darren to hurt me within a month of me starting, least you haven't sunk that low yet." He reached over and cautiously patted Jim, wanting desperately to pull over and hug him and take him, but it probably wasn't the time. "What's best for both of us - fuck well it's probably not what you'd do and not what I’d do, but right /now/ it's driving to Oxford. So I'll do that. Fuck knows what it'll be later."

Jim took Sebastian’s hand where it patted his shoulder and squeezed it tightly. “We can get my stuff and… don’t know. I have a little bit of money. What’s left of my loan from this term. I can sell my text books and things.” Jim tried to focus and get his brain into gear. “Do you want to live in the middle of nowhere or disappear in a city? Keep in mind that Mags is more likely to have connections in the city. The country might be nice.” 

"What am I going to do in the fucking country-side." Sebastian grumbled. He looked sideways at Jim, liking the hand on his shoulder, and tried to think. On the one hand, he did want Jim in charge, it was easier with other people in charge, and Jim was a smart little thing. On the other hand, handing Jim all his troubles in a stamped package and Jim was panicking, thinking of stupid ideas, /selling textbooks/ to pay mafia kings. "Look don't worry about money right now. Alright? You killed a bloke without leaving a trace, that's a far more marketable skill than second hand maths books. We'll deal with these bastards one at a time, in a sensible way. If we keep paying them, they'll just keep asking for more and more money." 

“I meant the money to go towards finding a place to /live/. Unless you want me spending the next week in withdrawals sicking up in your jeep?” Jim sighed and looked over at his friend. “What are you going to do in a city? I think it’s too dangerous for now. Besides, when would Mags ever think of looking for you in the country? I don’t suppose you’ve got any rich friends or family that would be willing to put us up?” Jim was grasping at straws but wanted to explore everything before coming to a decision. 

"Hostel. No point us renting a place just for you to be sick in it, and I'm not going through the full legal buggery of renting a damn flat just to move out in three days time when Magnussen sends the big boys in." Sebastian gave a laugh at Jim's suggestion, "ha, that would be nice. I've been disgraced by all the family I do know, except my mum who’s in California living the high life in her fifth marriage. No friends left, not that they'd want to associate with us..." he smirked at Jim, "Unless you want to drop by the Holmes's and tell dear Mycroft we're a friend of his little brothers." 

Jim snorted and acted out a tearful voice, “Mr. Holmes your brother buggered me and now my arse is sore as fuck. Take responsibility. Too bad I can’t fake a pregnancy.” Jim tilted his head back and looked over at Seb. “Spect you know I’ve not got anyone. I never spelt it out before but I am an orphan, I was a ward of the state until I aged out. I don’t even have any foster parents who would let me bother them for money. Looks like we’re both in the same boat.” Jim wasn’t sure who had it worse, the kid who had everything and lost it or the kid who never had anything to begin with. 

Sebastian snorted at the impression, "Ha - I expect he knows what his brother gets up to. Bound to. Look we'll just rent a place for now, try and work out how much we've run away from and how much is going to come back and bite us in the arse. We'll deal with it as and when, got to get you clean first." He gave Jim another glance, wondering just how sore his arse really was, and whether said arse needed rubbing or kissing better. "Fucking missed you..."

“Alright. I promise I’ll be less useless afterward.” He peeked over at Sebastian, “It’s bound to be pretty gross. If you’re feeling particularly generous you might nip down to the grocery and get me some Gatorade or something.” Jim covered his face for a minute, afraid the emotion would show. “Missed you too. Thought you’d been beaten or killed and I couldn’t get in touch with you and Magnussen had a fucking guard at the door. Even made sure to get a straight one so he’d be immune to my charms.” Jim tried to joke, not comfortable with explaining how terrified he’d been. 

Sebastian hesitated. It hadn't occurred to him to think of how Jim had felt. He'd been free, flying, and bloody terrified of every shadow. He'd assumed Jim was safe in Mags's flat, not drugged and freaked on his own. "I don't kill that easily." He said eventually. "Gatorade. Anything else? Tinned soup is usually good, I've heard." 

“Don’t know,” Jim said. “It’s supposed to be like a really bad flu. Fevers, shakes, vomiting. I started withdrawal once already; it wasn’t—pleasant at all. It was just for a couple of days I ran out and stopped taking anything.” Jim peeked over, wondering if Sebastian would recall the incident now and make the connection with Jim's "stress" illness a week ago. 

Sebastian frowned, thinking, then raised his eyebrows in an "ahhh." Giving Jim a grin he reached over and very lightly whapped the back of his head. "There you go. You've been jumping about getting that since you first told me. And next time Mags gets you stuck on anything, don't worry I'm going to hurt you for it, alright?" 

Jim shook his head, “I didn’t think you were going to hurt me—not then at least. I was just stupid and thought that it was better to hide it. Knew you’d be weird if you found out, knew you’d be pissed at Mags and do something stupid. I knew as long as I took them then Mags wasn’t going to seriously hurt either of us. It was the only leverage I had.” 

"Well I managed to do something stupid all by myself, without any help from you." Sebastian said dryly, rubbing his forehead a little at the thought of Darren. Fuck, after all this time he still bloody missed Darren a little. Or maybe that was just the lack of sex talking. "Well it worked out anyway. If you'd told me then... I probably would've tried to get you to stop. Mags wouldn't have stood for that. One or both of us would've had a pretty intense time of it. 

Jim nodded, unsurprised. He’d worked that out as soon as he figured out what he was taking was addictive. “I don’t—mean it, really.” Jim sighed in frustration. He wanted to say that he didn’t really think Sebastian would hit him but that was an obvious lie. “I mostly believed you when you said you wouldn’t—hit me. It’s just I thought you were angry and it’s really easy to forget promises when you’re angry.” Jim knew from experience. 

"'S gonna take you a while." Sebastian pointed out. "You're still used to bastards who lose it at you. Course you expect me to hit you. But I won't. Simple as that. You'll get there." One of the reasons he figured he was so focused and relaxed right now was that this was combat zone. Now he was fighting - Jim was a comrade to be protected and everyone else could go hang. "Course I lash out when I get angry, but not at you. Never at you. You're too ..." He tried to think of the right word and ended with "it'd be like punching glass. Shards and blood everywhere and most of it would be mine."

Jim scowled and adopted a haughty voice, “I’m not as fragile as all that, although I do understand the point of what you were trying to say. It was a valiant effort, especially for you.” He grinned and pinched Sebastian’s wrist to let him know he was teasing. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, not all of us listened during bloody Shakespeare." Sebastian grumbled just as teasingly back. "Course you're not fragile. You're tough as steel you. Now get some sleep till we get to Oxford. We can spent tonight in your little student place, I doubt Mags will send the cavalry here in twelve hours." 

“Alright, you can share the bed this time though. I had an awful crick in my neck last time.” Jim leaned his chair back a bit and pulled Sebastian’s sweatshirt around himself tighter. “I’m—glad, that we’re doing this. Whatever else happens I think… I would have really lost my shit if I’d had to stay any longer.” Jim shivered thinking of Magnussen’s hands and his mouth on him, those eyes always watching and trying to catch him out. 

"Also if he'd made you suck him off I would have ripped the old bastard’s dick off." Sebastian murmured, but all the same felt unaccountably pleased that Jim had chosen this. Against the pull of drugs, money, studies and what remained of his life Jim had chosen to strike out into god knew what with an ex-soldier with many enemies and no cash. 

Jim shook his head, “No he never did. Probably remembered when I threatened to bite Darren’s cock.” He smiled remembering that. “Mostly it was just… pressure and Sherlock fucking with my head. He was trying to help, I think.” He rubbed at his face and arms, feeling cold remembering what he’d been like the last few days. 

Sebastian turned up the car heating, "Stick your seat all the way back." He was suspicious of what Sherlock might have been up to but this didn't seem like the best time to ask, and he was pretty sure Jim wouldn't want to be thinking of it. 

Jim did as he was told and after a few minutes started drifting off. “Thank you,” he managed, half asleep already. “You saved my ass again.” 

"Yeah well, you saved mine." Sebastian smiled, stroking Jim's hair gently. Sure, he'd stormed away from Magnessun on his own, but Jim had given him a reason to stay away, and he was determined not to fuck it up for as long as possible.


	12. Relapse

The smallest room the hostel had was a four bed dormitory, so Sebastian hired all four, and then drilled two padlocks on the inside so he could lock both of them in. Three waste paper bins were the first thing he bought, so Jim could piss, shit and vomit himself stupid without having to leave the room. Stocks of food were next, although by the second day Jim was already starting to look a bit shaky, and Sebastian didn't want to leave him. He'd seen enough to know it would be tough as hell, and he wasn't about to leave the kid to go through it alone. He bought a scratchy radio in case Jim wanted something to distract him, but mostly so that he would have something to fiddle around with trying to get radio Moscow while Jim curled up in his own private little hell. 

Jim shook hard and his teeth chattered, right now he was cold and wanted every blanket in their room but in about ten minutes he knew that would switch and everything would feel boiling hot. The first day he’d tried to just convince Sebastian to lock him in the bathroom, he could have a blanket and pillow in the tub, but the man had refused and Jim was privately grateful even if this was awful and embarrassing. He’d passed being embarrassed after the first day. He hadn’t kept anything down, not food or fluids and he’d given up on eating anything, refusing everything Sebastian offered him except water. God his body /ached,/ at its worst the pain reached the level of having his shoulder dislocated but all of his joints instead of just that one spot. His bones felt brittle stiff and he imagined this is what it would feel like to get hit by a car. The thing he hadn’t anticipated about the withdrawals was his inability to sleep. He’d assumed he would pass out or get tired from all of the strain and he’d sleep through the worst of it. Jim hadn’t been able to sleep since he fell asleep in Sebastian’s car two days ago and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to snatch more than a few minutes at a time until this was over. He groaned as the tremors set off another shock wave of pain and he curled into a ball under the blankets as he breathed heavily with his mouth. 

Sebastian looked up from fiddling with the radio as Jim made a noise. Picking up the duvet, he came over and draped it over the heap, knowing it would be thrown off in a few minutes time, and giving Jim a pat on the visible part of his hair. "Doing good kid." He said quietly, before going back to the radio. There was nothing he could do here, no real help he could give, except to be as encouraging as a six foot ex-soldier could be, and try to provide things Jim needed. He was already getting worried about Jim's lack of food - not like the kid had many resources to start with - and he was skinny as a rake. He'd considered holding Jim down and force-feeding him, but it would likely only be vomited up again. He scowled as there was a knock on the door and snapped. "Piss off - wrong room. złego pokoju, yeah?" 

Jim groaned again as whomever it was continued knocking at the door. “Seb, for the love of fuck make them stop.” He tried adjusting enough to get a pillow over his head so the noise wouldn’t be so loud and sharp but that was outside his range of ability at the moment. 

The noise continued and Sebastian gave a growl, unbolting the door and opening it, all ready to give a shove to the person outside, and blinking in surprise as he saw an older, yet still recognisable, Mycroft Holmes. Giving a snarl, he bunched up a fist in the man's shirt, feeling a thrill as he did so. "Piss off mate - I dunno what you want but you're bad news..." 

Mycroft looked down pointedly at his fist until Seb slightly shamefacedly removed it. "I need to talk to Moriarty." 

"Yeah, well, he's not in a state to talk to anyone, piss off back home." 

“Seb its fine. Give me a minute to clean up a bit.” Jim had been listening from the bed and had already gotten half way up when Sebastian grabbed the man, prepared to make a run for it. It was a relief they weren’t in any /danger/ per say but still, this man was obviously wealthy and anyone that made Sebastian nervous wasn’t to be trifled with. Jim didn’t wait for permission just stood on wobbly legs and stumbled to the bathroom. He was in only his pants but he’d stopped caring a while ago. He paused to empty his stomach again in the toilet before he thoroughly brushed his teeth and washed his face, even made an attempt to comb through his hair. Jim still looked absolutely shit. He gave it up as a lost cause—he didn’t want to take too long in case Sebastian got violent again with the stranger—and he stepped back into the room. Jim saw the man take in his nudity and Jim reached down and picked up one of Sebastian’s sweatshirts off the floor and pulled it over his head slowly to cover himself. Besides, it was cold. “Sebastian have you offered our guest refreshments?” He said, just to be glib. His voice was coarse and creaky with the damage his throat had taken the last few days from sicking up every hour. 

Sebastian grumbled but let Mycroft in, bolting the door behind him. "Jim, this is Mycroft Holmes, a ... school friend. Mycroft, this is Jim." His accent was slipping back into posher tones just out of default. "We've got cold tomato soup, biscuits and water. Take your pick." 

Mycroft made a face, picking his way delicately over to the least messy bunk bed and sitting down on the side of it. "It's not you I'm interested in, Moran. It's him..." He looked down at Jim and tried to manage a sympathetic smile. "Withdrawing I see... good. But a pity. I'd like to talk about ... Carl." 

Jim continued to shake but blamed it on the withdrawals. “It’s just the flu, sorry—I hope you don’t catch anything.” Jim sat back down on his bed gratefully, trying to adjust the pillows so he could sit up. He almost froze when he heard that name but managed to continue. “Knew him did you? I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral.” Carl’s family had been very affluent, it actually wouldn’t have surprised Jim if the Powers and the Holmes knew each other. He wasn’t entirely deflecting. 

"I did know him." Mycroft said mildly, while Sebastian hulked in the background, scowling and trying to look menacing even though the situation seemed to contain a good few layers he wasn't aware of. "I knew him more after he died, strangely. For example, I know he was murdered. That wasn't too hard to work out, once I started listening to my little brother yapping away. It never struck me as anything to pay particular interest to, until now." He looked down at Jim. "Shall we talk about Magnussen now?" 

“Oh? You don’t want to talk about Sherlock?” Jim asked lightly, knowing that the little brother was Mycroft’s weak spot. He wanted to see how weak it made him. This whole conversation sent him into an awful panic but Jim knew that was the withdrawals talking, they made everything feel more dire than it was. Although a powerful and influential man telling you he knew you’d offed someone was pretty fucking dire on its own. 

"I'd rather not talk about Sherlock." Mycroft said tersely. "We can if you like, but he has no business in this conversation. I'm not here to threaten you, Moriarty, and I'm not here to arrest you. I'm here to offer you a deal. A set of conditions. I'm here to offer you freedom. For you and ..." he looked at Sebastian and gave a small smirk before going for, "Your bodyguard. But it does require a certain amount of effort on your part." 

Jim was so surprised for a moment he stopped shaking. “Tell me.” He croaked out. Jim would hear Mycroft’s initial offer and make a decision, perhaps after negotiating terms if they weren’t up to standards. 

"We need something from Magnussen." Mycroft said, laying out the terms in a simple and business-like manner. Jim wasn't well, and this was no time for fancy words. "He has a ... place. Appledore. He keeps a vast amount of secret information there, information that he should not have. We need someone to get in there, to know the extent of his knowledge, and potentially how to ... see to it that some of that knowledge is removed. Magnussen's taken to you, he's fascinated by you, and he wants to collect you. You have a way of getting in that no one else does."

Jim took a second to think through everything Mycroft had just said but his brain was all shuddering rust and gears. “I don’t understand…” He started. “Why me? Why not that brother of yours or Sebastian even?” Jim turned his head to look at the man, feeling lost. “You were there ages, have you even heard of this place? Or heard of any of the whores being brought there?”

"We're not whores, we're actors..." Sebastian grumbled, scowling as Mycroft made a tutting sound. 

"Think, Moriarty, I know it's hard at the moment, but you are spectacularly clever and you can do it. Sherlock means nothing to Magnussen. He's there to control me, that is all. Sebastian is ..." Mycroft gave Seb a glance and finished with, "Seduction is not his strong point. Playing people is not his strong point. Magnussen never invites anyone back because why would he let someone that close to him? It would be dangerous. He needs to believe that you are completely harmless, completely his, and completely able to serve him. Sebastian cannot play that part. You can." 

Jim felt his stomach clench hard and he leaned over and reached for his waste bin as he was ill. Mycroft wanted Jim to be… what? Magnussen’s personal whore? He wanted him to belong to the man, let himself be controlled. Fuck. Jim took a moment to breathe before sitting up again and wiping his face. “That kind of thing could take months, years even. I just left, what makes you think he’d even take me back?” Jim was a bit desperate, searching for reasons why he couldn’t do it. 

Mycroft watched, one eyebrow raised as Jim was sick. "We have months, we even have up to a year. He's owned this information for a while, building up over the years he's worked and woven his web. This isn't a sudden panic - we've been aware of this for a while. You are the only person currently with the potential for this power." He sat back, nose wrinkling a little in distaste. "Also you have no choice. It's this or prison." 

Jim laughed then, shaky and bitter. “You’re exactly the same as him. Everywhere I go it’s the same shit.” Jim leaned back, watching Mycroft. “Carl Powers was an abusive piece of shit and I acted in self-defense. What makes you think I would even be convicted?” Jim had gone along with Magnussen blackmailing him because Jim had a lot to lose; now he didn’t have anything and that made him fearless. 

"Because you're poor, semi-legal and have no proof." Mycroft replied simply. "Don't think I get any kind of perverse enjoyment out of this. We're talking about more than your sordid little ill-advised relationships here. We're talking about the future of the nation. Not that I expect that will influence you at all, but just be aware that I am playing for much higher stakes than one life here. You could be locked up in jail in/credibly/ easily. It wouldn't even require much paperwork. But Appledore is a hefty prize and believe me, we would give you all the support you need in gaining it, and any reward you care to name afterwards." 

He grit his teeth and tried not to snarl at the threat, Jim understood what prison would mean for someone like him. “What kind of support are you thinking I’ll /need/? After all I’m just expected to wiggle my arse around and suck cock. For Queen and country.” Jim tacked on at the end, sarcastically. 

"I suspect you might want somewhere slightly more ... habitable to stay?" Mycroft suggested, looking around at the hostel again. “Somewhere with a larger bathroom, perhaps? Methadone or other aids? Somewhere you can meet with Sebastian, whenever you like? And Sebastian might like a flat in London as well, so he doesn't have to doss down in a park. A new car? Money is no object. And of course, we can remove the threat of any pesky debt collection that might be worrying you. I'm sure you'll be an expert at both arse wriggling and cock sucking but it'll be nicer to do it in comfort." 

Jim reached out and grabbed Sebastian’s wrist as tightly as he could with shaking hands. This was—huge and Jim was sure in the state he was in right now he was going to fuck it up. He needed to consider everything and not leave anything out. “Seb…” He muttered, wishing they were alone again and Mycroft wasn’t here fucking with Jim’s head. He groaned as pain wracked his body but when it had gone he felt like his head was a bit clearer for just a moment. “I want those things but I think it would be a mistake.” Jim said to Mycroft, and still gripping Seb’s wrist. “Anything I build for myself now he’s just going to have to tear down before I can get anywhere near him. He won’t even let me back if I come in clean with a new car and place to live. He’s going to want to pick where I live, have me dependent on him for everything. I’ll have to start on the drugs again.” Jim could have cried in a combination of despair and relief but managed to blink the emotion away. “I want you to give Sebastian a job.” He said, solidifying an idea. 

Sebastian held him back, glaring irritated at Mycroft, wishing the man would just piss off and let Jim recover. He'd chosen to come now, when Jim was in the worst state he'd ever been in - and clearly was taking advantage of it. Mycroft rolled his eyes, speaking a little more sharply. "I'm obviously not going to doll you up in a fancy life and then push you in Magnussen's direction. I’m talking about the sort of support we can give. The sort of things we can have waiting ... backstage. And yes, you will have to start on the drugs..." Sebastian growled and Mycroft looked down at him, "Of course he will, and unless you want to end up strung up in uncomfortable ways by most of Sicily you will as well..." There was a pause as Sebastian launched forward and slapped Mycroft hard across the face with a growl. Mycroft pulled out a handkerchief, dabbed at the red mark, and then continued while Seb looked helpless. "Please call your dog off. You know you could do it, you're already thinking about it. We'll give you whatever you need."

Jim was privately pleased that Sebastian had hit Mycroft, as he’d very much wanted to do it himself but never would have, even if he had been well. “Sebastian come here,” Jim was too tired to put any real command behind his words but hoped that the man would take pity on him and obey anyway. This was difficult enough without trying to outmatch Sebastian as well. “This is how I would play it… Seb and I ran off together and you used the opportunity to snatch Sebastian up and offer him a position in whatever department you run. Magnussen will believe it, if only because he has Sherlock and he would understand you trying to gain counter leverage. In return for Sebastian working for you, he’ll get a flat, his debts paid off… whatever else he wants.” Jim was fast running out of steam. “Of course he’d take that offer, and there’s no way he’d bring along his junkie toy. I’ve been abandoned and I haven’t any money or drugs or a home and that leaves me free to go back to Magnussen with nothing.” The plan seemed solid enough to him but he couldn’t anticipate everything when his head was this fucked up, he’d need Mycroft to point out any holes. 

Sebastian scowled, doing as Jim asked almost without thinking, and pulling Jim onto his lap, wrapping strong arms around him to keep him upright as he talked, and help stop him shivering. The plan sounded good to him, although he disliked it intensely. Mycroft nodded, giving a pleased smile, his eyes flickering over Sebastian with a smirk. "I have to commend you. You're in the shaking throes of heroin withdrawal, straight out of working as a porn star, and you've still got a sharp wit and a loyal bodyguard. I’ll supply what you need. Just ..." He looked at both of them, "Please understand that I say this with no sentiment. Only practicality. Magnussen needs to believe that you have truly left Sebastian, that you are alone, emotionally and physically low. He needs to believe you've been let down again by a lover. He needs to believe that Sebastian has..." Mycroft had the decency to pause and look slightly awkward. "Let you down as Carl did. Been abusive. You need the right bruises in the right places because believe me, he will check." 

A low whine of distress made its way out before Jim could bite it back. He was too focused on making sure he didn’t get sick all over himself. He couldn’t think far beyond the constant litany of /Jesus fuck please no/ that ran through his head. His body shook harder than before, he was already in so much pain right now he didn’t know… but he could do this. He’d done it—plenty before. Maybe not with the withdrawals but he could do this and move on. He wouldn’t let his head get fucked up by this. “Do you have someone here or are you going to make Sebastian do it?” His voice came out breathless and he couldn’t even be angry at himself for it. 

Mycroft looked at them both for a moment. "That's for you to decide..." Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a card and laid it on the table. "Call that number when you need to..." he looked at them and sighed and then pulled out a mobile. “That’s for Sebastian. I'll get your new job arranged, I -" 

He didn't get any further before Sebastian backhanded him, and then loomed over him. "You fucker ... I've had a mobile owned by bastards like you before..." his breath was coming in angry pants and his fists balled, "You think you're better than me because you'd never hit anyone, never leave them sprawling, never lived in the gutter. You're the one wrecking fucking lives, you just destroy hundreds at a time.” He took a deep breath and snarled at Mycroft, who looked slightly shaken. "Nobody's hurting that boy but me. I'll fucking do it, and then stick him on a train to London. But if you break him, I don't give a fuck what the entire bloody weight of MI-whatever does to me, I will hunt you down and rip your fucking intestines out of your arse. You know I will." He gave a school-boy smile and helped Mycroft off the floor. "Alright Holmes, off you trot. Go to your fucking club and have a glass of port. We'll call you when we need you." 

Jim watched Sebastian lose it, feeling adrift and he gripped the duvet tightly. “It’s been a pleasure but I think it’s time you leave.” Jim bit out. “I’ll say hello to baby brother of course.” 

Mycroft nodded at them both and then left. Sebastian bolted the door then leant against it, shaking a little and muttering "fuck." Coming back over he sat on the bed, looking at Jim helplessly. "Well? If you want to tell him to swivel and run off to Malaysia I'll come..." 

Jim managed to smile a bit. He needed to control this, keep Sebastian from trying to talk him out of it. Because Jim knew he might let him. “You already know what I’m going to say,” Jim whispered and reached out to scratch at the stubble that was growing out on Sebastian’s face. 

Sebastian nodded, looking miserable, and tugged Jim into his lap, gently wrapping arms around him and kissing at his bottom lip, "Yeah ... and you know what I have to do to you. You're fucked up in pain anyway, so it might not be so bad. But fuck I wish I didn't have to..." 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jim sighed and rested his forehead against Sebastian’s shoulder. “Mycroft will send someone. You could—watch. Make sure it goes okay?” Part of Jim hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t be the one to do it, he didn’t want memories like that associated with him. But in a way it was better because Jim knew Seb would stop if he told him that he needed a break. 

"You really think I could watch?" Sebastian murmured, licking at the underside of Jim's ear and holding him protectively. "C'mon ... let’s make this as easy as possible." he knew that Jim was very unlikely to get aroused what with the withdrawal, and the pain, but at least he could make him as spaced out as possible. "Just think of how much fun it'll be spinning all your little sob stories to Mags ... he'll think he's won and all the time you'll know you're the fucking king." One hand wrapped around Jim's neck, pressing firmly and continuously to leave bruises. "You say stop and I will kid, not doing anything you can't handle." 

Jim gasped for air and let out a strangled whine as Sebastian’s hand tightened around his throat but he didn’t tap at his hand or signal him to stop. He had that much self-control at least. His eyes stung and leaked a bit from the pressured lack of air and fear. Jim focused on trying to stay calm, not fighting back, on trying to make this as easy as possible for everyone. 

Sebastian let his fingers move, making sure Jim always had enough air but still keeping up the pressure, removing his hand only when he knew bruises would have formed. Gently, he ran his hand up under the big shirt Jim was wearing, looking down at him with sympathetic eyes before starting to scratch at his side, gentle scratches, but running over the same place on Jim's hip, over and over, making sure to leave a mark. "If you ever have enough of me - if Holmes manages to break one or both of us, you'll never have to go through what you did with Carl." He muttered, voice low. "Give me the order and I'll jump in the damn river for you, with a rucksack full of rocks." 

Jim leaned forward and kissed Sebastian’s mouth hard, “You aren’t going to fucking break me.” He whispered, pretty sure he was telling the truth. “Don’t half ass this, I can’t afford to fuck this up. If you can’t do it then I’ll call Mycroft.” Jim warned. It was difficult to say and sound convincing, because Jim would much rather have Sebastian continue marking him gently, but it wasn’t going to look right. They could think of it like conditioning. Because when he got back Darren sure as hell wasn’t going to fake the marks he’d leave on Jim’s body. 

Sebastian gave a little growl deep in his throat at that, and nodded, feeling a little ashamed that Jim was being so strong while he was starting to break down. Steadying Jim's hip with one hand, the other scratched a gash along the other hip, then swiftly reached up and smacked two knuckles just under his eye before Jim could quite realise it was about to happen. "You know what story to spin." He murmured. "I used you, fucked you up, hurt you. Then got a fancy job with Holmes and dumped you in the gutter." he stroked at Jim's cheek, then slid him onto his lap, laying three fingers against his arse, "Ready?" 

Jim let out a surprised yelp when Sebastian’s fist hit him right under his eye. Jim hoped it would swell. Black eyes always looked really good. He nodded, knowing the story he’d have to sell and knew being bruised up and limping would help him. It /was/ helping. Sebastian asked if he was ready and Jim nodded his head yes, even though he wasn’t. Because if they waited until Jim was ready they probably wouldn’t ever leave. A mixed up little noise of pain and fear escaped as Sebastian pushed his fingers inside him and Jim scrambled for a part of Sebastian to hold on to as he breathed through the pain and the uncomfortable stretch. “Good. That’s good.” He managed to say but he didn’t mean it in the least. God, this was so fucked up. 

Sebastian forced his fingers up as hard as he could - he wasn't hard and there was no way he would get hard, but he just had to leave Jim bruised and hurting. His free hand pushed the hair out of Jim's eyes and he kissed the already swelling skin under his eye, "S'okay ... swear at me if you want..." he managed with a chuckle, feeling fingers scrabbling and grabbing at him as he tugged his hand away and then instantly shoved four fingers inside Jim, smacking the knuckles hard against the outside of his entrance. "Almost done, yeah?" 

Jim wasn’t really listening to what Sebastian was saying, he just focused on not getting sick yet. They were almost done, Jim could wait out a few more minutes. He made another wordless sound of distress, afraid if he started talking that he would ask the man to stop and that would make this so much harder on the both of them. Instead he let himself shake and worked hard on sitting as still as possible so he wouldn’t hurt himself worse. He tucked his face away where Sebastian wouldn’t be able to see it and he breathed. Just breathed. Even if he wasn’t listening to what the man was saying exactly his voice was soothing and Jim appreciated that. 

"There you go..." Sebastian stroked the back of Jim's head and gave another hard painful thrust of his fingers, then pulled them away and slapped Jim's entrance, three times hard, Hopefully that would look enough like a painful fucking which, along with the bruises and general shakes, would convince Magnussen. He didn't feel he could do much more anyway and he stroked and kissed Jim's hair. "Let me know when you feel well enough to get on the train, we can give it another day if you want to be a bit more functional - pretend you've been sleeping rough or some shit. Although you know he'll pump you full as soon as you get back." 

God Jim wanted to sleep so badly. He felt like he’d be able to get a hold of this situation if he could just rest for a few minutes. Sebastian touched him gently and that set Jim’s shakes off worse. “Just—give me an hour. The bruises need to set anyway.” He leaned back so that he could see Sebastian’s face and it hurt that he’d caused him to look so unhappy. “Lay down with me for a bit? I don’t know—it might be a few days before I can see you again.” 

"Course." Sebastian gently helped him down, pulling over a bucket in case he needed to be sick again, and then lay down next to him, curling his body around Jim's smaller one. "Whatever you need, yeah? And if that bastard gives you too much more trouble let me know and I'll come and slap him again." it was an empty threat, he knew there was no way he'd be able to touch Mags, let alone hurt him, but he didn't want Jim feeling alone.

Jim hissed as he was helped down, his arse was just really sore and it would hurt to move around at all for a couple days. Mostly right now Jim was desperately trying not to think about what was coming because his imagination was trying to run wild on him. Jim pressed back against Sebastian’s front and tried to breathe and focus on what was going on right now. “Sorry I just signed you up to work for Mycroft. I know you don’t like him.” Jim chuckled dryly, “He’ll probably make you wear a suit. I’d love to see that.”

Sebastian gently patted his backside, almost trying to appologise for the pain he'd left behind and gave a little chuckle. "Oh yes, suits all the way. You should definitely see, I clean up pretty well. Look rather dashing in a suit." He didn't want to think of what Jim would end up doing, of the pain that Magnussen was likely to put him through, "I'll be there whenever you need - call or text or whatever." 

Jim nodded and smiled a bit at Sebastian’s antics. He’d miss this. “I’ll—need you.” Jim struggled with words, not knowing how to explain it. “I’ll need—normalcy. An anchor, a reminder that it’s not real.” Jim’s voice got quiet, “You know I’m going to start again. On the heroin. I’m sorry, I know you wanted me to be clean.”

"I wanted you to be clean for you - now it looks like we've got to do this. Bloody Mycroft." Seb stroked his hair and gave it a kiss, irritated and worried at how fragile the body beneath him was. He remembered the brief time they'd been together in his flat - it had been hot and wonderful, and he wanted that Jim back. Now he knew he'd be providing even more support. 

“You don’t have to do this you know,” it was just a whisper and part of him hoped Sebastian wouldn’t overhear it. Because Jim /did/ need him and the idea of being left in this shit hole alone was terrifying. “I don’t want you to do this out of obligation. I’d understand if you wanted to bugger off and enjoy your freedom a while longer. I’ll still make sure Mycroft squares your debts and everything. Just /please/, don’t do anything to get yourself sent back to Mags. You’ve worked too hard for this. Promise me.” 

Sebastian reached across and gave his ear a kiss, whispering, "'S a promise boss. Now stop being silly and get yourself psyched up. It's gonna be a hell of a tough week without you fretting about me - so rest assured I'll be a good boy in my nice smart Armani drinking cappuccinos with Holmes's workmates, alright?" 

“You’re just on loan, understand?” Jim was smiling a bit, bolstered by Sebastian’s attitude. “Mycroft can’t keep you. He’s just keeping an eye on you for me until I’m free to do it myself. Making sure you don’t piss off any more Croatians.” Jim wanted Sebastian working for more reasons than his cover. Jim understood that if the other man was left to his own devices, just twiddling his thumbs and waiting for Jim to come around he’d drink himself stupid and get himself into trouble. As much as he was sure Sebastian would hate the work, it was a relief knowing that Jim wouldn’t have to come home to a shit storm after whatever kind of day he’d had at work. 

Sebastian gave a low chuckle, the words making him more pleased than he cared to admit. He liked the idea of belonging to Jim, maybe more than was healthy, and it was certainly easier to cope with the thought of being loaned to Mycroft. "Oh yeah, don't you worry, I know who's really still holding my leash." He patted Jim again and then gave him a quick hug and muttered, "I'll fucking miss you, alright? Be careful. Think. And i'll be safe and sound with my new car." 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian dropped Jim off at the train station with literally nothing except the clothes on his back. Sebastian agreed to look after what few possessions of Jims they’d managed to move with them from Oxford. He felt sicker from the stress and his withdrawals but he knew that for better or worse he wouldn’t be suffering from them much longer. They received a lot of concerned glances, Jim’s lower eyelid had swelled and bruised and his throat was in shitty condition. Still Sebastian kissed him hard on the platform and that was their goodbye. Jim’s train went to Paddington and from there he took the underground to the stop closest to the studio. He’d walked the rest of the way and by the time he got there he was a frightful mess, sweating from the fever and shaking so badly he’d tripped several times on the way there. He steeled himself as he pushed the familiar door opened and settled himself for what he was sure would be a shitty shitty day. 

John saw him first, looking up from a scene with Sherlock and freezing. The camera man snapped at him, but John had already left the bed and hurried over, "Jesus, Richard..." he reached up to press against Jim's eye, aghast and then stood quickly, looking uncomfortable, as Magnussen approached. Magnussen looked over Jim quickly and then placed a hand on his shoulder, "Into the office, now. Wayland, continue your scene." He steered Jim into the office and helped him into a chair before he fell apart, noticing Jim's wince as he sat down. Steepling his fingers he looked at Jim through his glasses. "So ... my Tiger showed his claws then?" 

Jim was startled and warmed by John’s concern, “’M alright.” He mumbled and even managed to grin a little. Then Magnussen came over and Jim lost his grin and looked away, choosing to keep his gaze on the floor. He didn’t even feel the urge to pull away when Mags led him by the arm, he was feeling that shitty. He sat down and winced, just really exhausted down to his bones and ready to do whatever it took to get something in his system. “Fucked me up pretty good.” Was all Jim had to say about it. This was… familiar. The concern he’d get, the awkward questions. It wasn’t difficult to remember how invasive it all was and the shame that came with people asking questions about visible marks, the desire to keep as much information to yourself. 

Magnussen looked at him and then snapped. "You look like shit, Moriarty. I offered you a job, a place to stay, transport for your college, support for your university. I even offered to let you keep seeing my pet Tiger that you stole. And now look at you. It's all come shitting down on your head." He looked at Jim coldly. "Strip. I need to see what he did. I can't employ a porn actor with lasting marks." All the friendly demeanor he'd once had with Jim was long gone. Now it was clear that Jim was a piece, a whore, and one who was coming dangerously close to becoming unusable. 

“’M fine, it’s nothing serious.” Jim said but he stood shakily and started stripping anyways. He refused to be upset about this, they knew this was coming that was why they’d marked him up in the first place. It concerned him that Magnussen had changed his tune so fast, Jim didn’t know if it was going to be more help or harm when it came to his goal. He was encouraged though, Magnussen said he was still thinking about employing him. That was something at least. Jim finally stepped out of his pants and just left his clothing in a pool on the floor, he was too tired to bend over and fold them. 

Magnessun stood up, stalking over and looking over Jim's body, walking around him and pressing against the bruises, poking at the scratch marks. Cool slender fingers pressed against Jim's skin, working out it's value, it's worth. "Hmm ... not too bad. The last boy my Tiger clawed up was a mess..." he stopped behind Jim, bending to whisper in his ear, "You know what's next. Bend over. Spread it open. Show me what he did to your tight little fuckhole. Then you'll get what you need, what you came here for." 

Jim made a needy sound at the promise of drugs, even as he hated himself for it. By this point he wasn’t even excited about the high, he just wanted to stop feeling like shit. He took a breath and bent over, planting his hands down on Magnussen’s desk so he wouldn’t be tempted to swat at the man when he touched him. So far this was going well and Jim wasn’t going to fuck up anymore when he was already guaranteed a world of hurt if Magnussen took him back on. 

Magnussen squeeze his arse with hard bony fingers, pressing one around the bruised area over Jim's arsehole and giving quiet little tutting noises. "Tell me." He said quietly, his finger still poking and checking for damage. "How did he do it? Did he bend you over? Fold you in half? Did he threaten to belt you?" his hands moved forward, sliding between Jim's thighs to stroke the head of his cock, "Why did he strangle you - did you mouth off? My poor little magpie, with broken wings. /Tell me/." 

Jim allowed his acting to take over and he let out a small noise of distress as Magnussen touched his cock. “He—held me down.” Jim stuttered over the words and shook harder with stress. “And f-fucked me. On my stomach.” Jesus he wanted to be sick. “I-bit him. He choked me.” 

"You bit him? While he was fucking holding you down on your stomach?" Magnussen started stroking him a little faster, pressing his suited body against Jim's arse. "Poor boy ... that must have been quite an act of contortion. And then did he pound your little hole hard? Were you crying?" His hips started to press into Jim's body, the cock hard underneath. 

“No,” Jim was losing track of things, despite himself but his mind worked quickly even while he wanted to leave and not come back. “I got choked first, then he fucked me. On my stomach so I couldn’t bite again.” Jim thought a little hysterically that there was no fucking way he was getting hard like this and he really hoped Mags didn’t expect him to be able to manage. He felt the man’s erection press against his sore naked arse and Jim pressed back and moved against him like he was trying to pull away from the man’s hand on his cock. “I didn’t cry.” He said, but it was just a whisper. 

"Good boy..." Magnussen's hand moved, rubbing up Jim's back and along to under his bruised eye, pressing and wiping. "Were you brave, hmm? As my Tiger fucked your innocence out of you, all choked and bruised." His hand grabbed the back of Jim' hair and tugged it upwards, "Remember that. Remember that feeling. Remember who he is, and what he did to you." Letting go of Jim he moved away, going to the office door and beckoning. He sat back down in his seat as Sherlock entered, raising his eyes when he saw Jim but making no other motion. "Now. Sherlock will give you your high, and then he will suck me off. And you will watch. Understand?" 

Jim was shaken but trying not to show it, especially when Sherlock came in through the door. He didn’t think he managed, standing there naked and ill and shivering in Magnussen’s office. Sherlock moved obediently to take the drugs from Magnussen and quickly approached Jim, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible so he’d be given his own drugs. “You haven’t had any in a while,” Sherlock muttered the obvious. “This will make it better, just relax.” 

Jim didn’t know why he had to have his drugs administered to him, by this time he’d learned his way around a needle. Sherlock injected the drugs into his system and after a few moments Jim felt that rush start in his chest and travel down his limbs. It was wonderful and hateful. “I don’t understand,” Jim said quietly as Sherlock kneeled down between Magnussen’s legs. “You want me to watch? Am I allowed to dress?” He thought it wasn’t likely but figured he couldn’t completely roll over immediately or Magnussen would get suspicious. 

Magnussen looked at him coldly. "No. I want you to watch, and I want you to think. You have been withdrawing for the last week. A lot of things have happened to you. I want you to think very carefully about them, while you watch him suck my dick." He patted the side of Sherlock's cheek, "He is a good whore, and he will do it well. You will go home with him tonight and the two of you will rehearse a scene for tomorrow - two naughty little college boys, spanked hard by Darren. I want you clinging to each other and then comforting each other. Understood?" 

Jim had known coming back would be hard but he’d at least hoped he would get a little bit of time to heal before his arse was laid into. “Okay,” he whispered and rubbed his face, trying to pull himself together. Just a few minutes and then he would go home with Sherlock. The other boy undid Magnussen’s belt and undid his trousers before freeing his already hard cock and swallowing him down obediently. Sherlock had gotten comfortable here, even though it had only been a little more than a week it was infinitely better than working on the streets. And he had all of the cocaine he wanted. He made a needy sound in his throat as he swirled his tongue around and sucked Mags off, hoping to get this done quickly so that he could go home after a day of filming. 

Magnussen kept his eyes fixed on Jim, watching him intently until the last possible moment when he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his seed spilling over Sherlock's mouth while he swallowed. When he'd finished he pushed on Sherlock's head to keep him down and then stood, straightening his shirt and doing his trousers up. Coming over he patted Jim's cheek, "You are not badly harmed. You are lucky my Tiger cares for you, even if he has finished with you. A spanking will do you good." Leaving the office, the driver came over, averting his eyes when he saw the two semi naked young men and self-consciously handing over two robes. "Alright..." 

Jim gathered up his clothes off the floor, feeling numb and shaken and accepted the robe with a mumbled ‘thank you.’ Both him and Sherlock pulled them on and stepped outside the office. 

The driver led them both to the car, past John, who looked at them both with saddened eyes, biting his lip and saying nothing. Not till they were in the flat, a considerably smaller and less well kept flat, did Sherlock turn to Jim and say flatly "Moran hasn't left you. Who made the bruise?" 

"Fuck are you talking about?" Jim snapped, irritated to have been right. He hadn't thought he'd be able to hide these things from the observant boy but he didn't have a way to ensure his silence either. "He hit me and he held me down and fucked me, is that what you want to hear?" 

"If Moran had wanted to hurt you you'd be hurt, not just sporting a few bruises." Sherlock headed to the bathroom, rinsing his mouth out and giving Jim a sideways glance. "I'll work it out eventually, I always do."

"He didn't have to hurt me physically, that wasn't the point. He knew it would fuck me up, he didn't have to hit hard to leave a mark." Jim looked about the flat and just wanted to finally sleep but he didn't know how he felt about sharing a bed with Sherlock. "What happened while I was gone?"

"I don't think Moran really thinks like that." Sherlock murmured, looking over at Jim and shrugging, "Not much. CAM threw a tantrum. Paul got whipped. I've done some scenes with Wayland. He's nice. He seems to actually ... care. The people on the internet are missing Sebastian, he had quite a following." 

“Yeah well he’s not coming back.” Jim managed to lace as much bitterness as he could into the words. “You’ll never guess who’s given him a job. That brother of yours, Mycroft.” 

"Mycroft? Has given Moran a job?" For the first time Sherlock sounded taken aback, as if something that he had never imagined could ever take place had just happened. "Why? Moran is entirely unsuited for political work. He's a brute, useless for /any/ work except as a mercenary and even then he's far too unstable. His father was the politician, not him. He was just a school bully who got into Sandhurst." 

Jim nodded, just a little bit pleased to have surprised Sherlock with something. "I imagine he'd use him for security or something. He's hardly cut out for paperwork. But I don't know, it wasn’t as though they involved me in the discussions." 

"Security? Moran's the least secure person there is. Why would Mycroft ... why would he ..." Sherlock looked up, baffled and rubbing at his head then looked at Jim searchingly, trying to find the answer written in him. 

“No moron,” Jim sighed out. “Personal security. Mycroft’s security. Which basically /is/ national security but there’s no point in splitting hairs.” Jim sat back on the couch and prodded at the bruise under his eye. “Your brother told Sebastian that he couldn’t have a murderer for a boyfriend. Which apparently I have you to thank for telling him about. You’re a real fuck by the way.” Jim /was/ genuinely irritated, if Sherlock hadn’t brought him up to Mycroft then maybe Jim could still be hiding out with Sebastian somewhere.


	13. Misery Loves Company

The scene had been pretty intense, and made John almost uncomfortable to watch, particularly when Sherlock had started crying. He knew the tears were fake, but if anything that made it even harder to deal with, that Sherlock had reached a stage where he couldn't even properly react. Darren started with his hand, the two boys bent over facing and clutching at each other, and then moved on to strokes with a heavy paddle, finishing with three cane lines for each of them. After that, he'd left, and Sherlock and Jim had whimpered, cuddled, and had sex on the table, finding the clearly practiced angle that caused the least pain. John had stepped forward then, before Magnussen made them repeat anything, rubbing salve gently over Jim's backside before leaning forward to whisper, "I've been told to tell you that you should make your way to Club 72 this evening at 8pm. This isn't an order, it's voluntary. Apparently you will understand that." he gave Jim's bottom a last rub, gave his pin-point pupils an unhappy glance, and then went to work on Sherlock 

Jim breathed heavily, trying to pull his shit together. /Fucking Mycroft!/ Was it too difficult to text him? Really? Darren. He’d kill Darren first. No-no-no, Magnussen. Magnussen first, then Darren, /then/ Mycroft. Sherlock should be on that list somewhere but Jim figured he could spare the boy for now, he was a tool and a puppet but didn’t enjoy anything he did. Unlike /fucking Darren./ Jim growled and tried to get up now that his arse had been seen to by the good Doctor Watson. Who apparently was Mycroft’s tool. Excellent. Jim didn’t fancy having to go /anywhere/ right now in the state he was in. He’d just planned on crashing and sleeping until his drugs wore off but duty called. He wondered what it meant that this meeting was voluntary and hoped for Mycroft’s sake that it was important and worth Jim’s time and effort. There was no one here who Jim could safely rail against or take his anger out on, Mycroft would have to be very careful. Jim grit his teeth and managed to get to his feet before he slowly stalked off to the showers. 

Sherlock relaxed under John's hands, somehow he always felt safer when John was looking after him, watching Jim go with a frown. He was determined to work out what was going on, and he was certain that Jim hadn't been thrown out by Sebastian. He wondered why Magnussen couldn't see it, it seemed so /obvious/. Maybe they'd just had an argument about the drugs. He limped off to join Jim in the showers, but kept uncharacteristically silent as they dressed, and the bodyguard drove them back to the small flat. 

Jim limped about the flat, grabbing a bottle of water and took a few minutes to shoot up before leveling his gaze at Sherlock. “I’m going to sleep now, if you bother me you’ll regret it. Just stay out of the bedroom.” 

Sherlock shrugged, lying down on a blanket in the front room and filling the syringe with a hefty dose, "I'm not going to bother anyone, switching off." He mumbled. The harsh beating, along with the comfort from John Watson had left him slightly shaken, and coupled with the intense concentration of trying to work out what was happening with Jim his brain was aching. Passing out into a drug haze seemed like a good plan. 

Jim softened a bit when he really looked and noticed Sherlock didn’t seem to be in much better shape than he was. “If you’re going to do that you might as well be in the bed, don’t sleep on the floor or you won’t be able to get up tomorrow.” 

"I don't need to get up tomorrow." Sherlock snapped, tying the tourniquet around his arm. "Why don't you just go and meet John Wayland for your damn date. I heard him whispering to you." With that he plunged the needle into his arm, scowling and ignoring Jim completely. 

Jim’s mouth parted in surprise, Sherlock… /liked/ him? Watson. Jesus. Jim could see why, sort of but—Watson? He couldn’t quite hide his surprise that Sherlock was able to care about… /anything/ outside of cocaine. Huh. He didn’t bother to correct him though, Sherlock had already zoned out and besides, Jim didn’t want Sherlock asking who he /really/ was going to see. Although he would have enjoyed the look of horror and shock on the other man’s face when Jim told him he was meeting his brother at a club. Jim shook his head in bewilderment and walked to the bedroom, passing out almost before his head hit the pillow. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Sebastian had arrived half an hour early at the club, all dressed up in his nice suit and ordered a bottle of beer, fiddling with a beer mat and glancing out of the window every five minutes. Club 72 was a posh one, filled with bankers, ladies in suits, wives in fur lined coats and Sloane Rangers on the prowl. He'd even had a few women glancing over at him, and had already turned them down with a swift shake of the head and a leer of the barman’s arse. Except now the barman was offering him free drinks and smirking at him. Calling the man over he ordered a cocktail for Jim, "I've got a second party coming - need a private booth." The barman's look turned sour and he banged the glasses around making the drink, only slightly mollified by the large tip. 

Jim was late by about fifteen minutes, partially to piss Mycroft off but also because it took him longer than he thought it would to walk. He’d shot up again before he’d left the flat because he knew traveling was going to be a bitch. When he got to the club he barged in and then froze with his mouth gaping open. “The fuck is this?” He said loudly, drawing people’s attention. This place was fucking ridiculous. He should have expected Mycroft to make him come to this rich fancy place when he knew Jim could fit everything he owned in a back pack. He was wearing a jumper he’d picked up from a thrift store today and jeans. Not exactly appropriate for a place like this. If he didn’t look so frumpy someone might have thought Jim was a prostitute looking for someone rich to pick him up. As it was, he looked more homeless than anything. 

Sebastian grinned when he saw Jim, coming over to him quickly, and scowling at the bouncer to back off. He frowned as he saw what Jim was wearing, he'd rather hoped Mycroft might look after him a bit better, still Jim was here and that was what mattered. He handed the young man the cocktail, placing a hand on the small of his back and whispering, "It's alright, I've got us a private booth if you want somewhere a bit less ... open." 

“Seb?” He whispered in confusion as he saw the man approach him. He felt embarrassingly off balance right now. Jim took the fancy cocktail in numb surprise and just nodded his head obediently and followed Sebastian to the back of the club. Jim grimaced slightly as he sat down but the heroin did wonders for numbing pain, without it he wouldn’t have been able to sit down at all. The booth was plush and very comfortable which helped. “What are you doing here? Where’s Mycroft?” 

Sebastian pulled the curtain across the booth and sat down, his smile faltering slightly at the question, "What? Why the hell would Mycroft be here? Sure he's my boss but that doesn't mean I invite him on my dates." He reached forward and gently swiped at the healing bruise under Jim's eye. "You alright? You looked pretty rough coming in. I can get some food if you want it..." 

Jim raised an eyebrow threateningly. “I’m sorry, who’s your boss?” He needed a moment to catch up. “Mycroft told John to pass a message to me? I thought I was meeting him here?” Jim pushed the cocktail back to Sebastian, “Sorry, I can’t drink this unless you want to take me to the emergency room later.” Mixing as much heroin as Jim had taken today with alcohol was just asking for respiratory failure. “Food would be nice, but I’m not in a hurry. It can wait a minute.” He took a breath and just looked Sebastian over, appreciating that he was /here./ “You do clean up well.” Jim said, smirking a bit. 

"What, no, /I/ told Weyland to ask you if you were free. And you're my boss, course you are..." he moved the cocktail away, scowling at the implications that Jim had been taking too much of the drug. "yeah, yeah, you're the boss, don't worry. Mycroft just employs me to hang around looking menacing outside large buildings." He sighed, the job was boring but managable. It certainly gave him plenty of time to worry about Jim. He grinned at the smirk, straightening his suit out and adjusting his tie, "Oh yeah. I am actually a posh well-bred bugger. Just spent most of my life grubbing around in the sand with a rifle. This is the proper stuff you know, real Saville Row. Mycroft flicks money at me every time I winge about anything." 

Jim blinked and couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realized that earlier. Drugs made him fucking stupid sometimes. “Oh. I’m surprised he even spoke to you since I’ve been spreading the story about our little domestic. He actually looked /worried/ when I came in yesterday, not just that blank professional look he’s normally got.” He scoffed a bit at Sebastian’s show, glad to see the man seemed… happier than Jim had ever seen him. That was worth something. “What have you been winging about then? Tie too tight for you?” He teased the man and leaned back against his seat. “Coffee too hot? You have to tell me who’s bossier between the two of us.” 

"Nah, I barely see Mycroft, he's too busy for grunts like me. Also I think he doesn't want to get hit again." Sebastian leant back opposite Jim, wanting to ask if he was alright but also wanting to have some time just for the two of them, without talking about fucking Magnussen. Most of his complaints to Mycroft had been about Jim - worried he was getting hurt, exploited, drugged up into emptiness. "Mostly I complain about not being able to properly hurt people, I have to fill in six lots of paperwork if I so much as tap a bloke on the shoulder." he patted his leg, "Want to come sit on my lap? I've missed you." 

“You just saw me yesterday, idiot.” If it had been anyone else Jim might have thought Sebastian had asked him to sit in his lap on purpose to suss out what kind of state Jim was in. He was getting fucking paranoid. Jim looked to the menu set out on the table and breathed out as casually as he could. “Probably shouldn’t. We still need to order and I’m not going to have you hand feeding me.” He smiled, letting Sebastian know he was teasing. “Open that curtain up will you? So the waiter knows we’re ready.” Sebastian would be less likely to want Jim in his lap with the curtain open. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and pushed the curtain open, motioning at one of the waiters to come over. He'd been pretty much up for jumping Jim as soon as he arrived, but he respected that Jim might have been through hell with Darren and might not be up for it. Still - after a whole day worrying about Jim, then organising a date at a swanky club he was feeling slightly ignored now Jim had actually turned up. "I ate already, but I'll get some of those nibble things with the peanuts in them." 

Jim ordered a thin soup, and handed the menu back to the waiter. Today was the first day he’d not gotten sick in a while and he hadn’t really eaten despite that. Sherlock seemed to eat as much as a mouse, which Jim thought was a result of the cocaine use, and Magnussen didn’t seem nearly as interested in stocking this flat with groceries. There certainly wasn’t room service. This would be Jim’s first real meal in three or four days and he wasn’t going to ruin it by eating something too rich. He noticed Sebastian’s sullen expression and he reached out and teased the back of his hand with his fingertips. “You know Sherlock thinks I’m out on a date with Watson right now. Poor thing actually seemed jealous.” 

"Watson? Ha! Don't know what Mycroft's little brother would see in him." Sebastian flashed Jim a smile, reassured by the touch. He shouldn't expect too much, and it was good to see Jim, get some food in him, and take him away from Magnussen for a bit. "Well, be sure to furnish him with all the lurid details. I don't think Watson's ever been on a date with another man in his life." 

Jim snorted and shook his head, "Watson is about all the medical care I'm going to get I'm not going to piss him off by spreading rumors and getting Sherlock sore at him. I think Mags would just cut my balls off if I seduced another one of his actors. Poor Sherlock. He's sort of supposed to be my new boyfriend and instead he thinks I'm out with the bloke he actually wants." Jim had a hard time finding any pity for him, even though he was probably still curled up in the floor back home. "Is Watson straight or something? That's rough." 

"Nah, he fancies blokes alright, he's just insanely straight laced about it for a man who works in porn." Sebastian gave a snort at the thought of Sherlock and Jim being boyfriends. "Sometimes I think Mags has spent so much time in porn he's forgotten how the world works. Hot little knocked around twinks don't want to spend time with other soft little bullied twinks. They want big rough soldier boys." 

“Not sure he’d touch him while he’s on the drugs anyway. John gave me a look today that would have done my mother proud.” Jim joked, and ignored the little ball of shame that burned in his gut at the thought. He didn’t like being looked down on, even if he knew that wasn’t what John had meant by it. “I thought Sherlock and I might have gotten on but… we don’t. Maybe that’ll change, who knows. We live together now. There’s worse people he could put me up with and the place isn’t bad even if there’s only one bedroom.” Jim blinked away the thoughts and smiled, “Have you moved into your new place yet? When do I get to see it?” 

"Yep, moved in and settled. Not that I had much to move in." Sebastian gave a grin, "You can see it tonight if you like. Thought you might like to spend some time at a posh club with a hot ex-soldier in a suit but if you're ... not up for it we can just head back. It's not a massive place, but it's a nice little flat and fuck me the rent'll be through the roof." He bit his tongue, stopping his babbling away trying to excuse not living in a palace. "One bedroom, hmm? Maybe I should give that little junkie a slap and remind him not to get fresh with my boss..." 

“I’d like that,” Jim said, continuing to write across the back of Sebastian’s hand with his fingertip. “We can go after we finish our food. I like the suit but I also like you just as much out of your clothes so we’ll have to see once we get back to your flat.” He looked up seriously, “Don’t slap him, stay as far off from him as you can. From the studio too, just—avoid him. I’ve been back twenty-four hours and he already knows something’s up. Mags didn’t outright call me a liar but he said you didn’t hit me hard enough, said you were too soft, he didn’t really buy my story. Sherlock certainly didn’t. That boy gets like a fucking hound when he’s got a puzzle. I’ve barely gotten him off my back, if he sees you hanging around me he’s going to know we didn’t break it off and he’s got every incentive to go to Mags with information like that.” 

Sebastian nodded, then gave a little mock salute, "Right boss. Yeah, makes sense. I'll stay well away from anyone to do with Mags. God it feels good to get him off my back." He gave Jim a sad little smile, "Wish I could get him off yours. Do you want me to tell Mycroft his brothers being a pain, or are you alright to handle it?" He rather liked the idea of going back to the flat with Jim, even though he knew Jim would have to go back to Magnussen's flat for the night, certainly if they didn't want his bodyguard getting suspicious 

“Good,” Jim said simply. He didn’t feel gracious enough to be pleased for Sebastian just at this moment. Sebastian’s freedom was important to him, it was probably his biggest motivation for doing this outside of avoiding prison. Imagining Sebastian standing around looking grumpy but unharmed in a suit and having the luxury of boredom was what got Jim through the day. He just couldn’t be happy for him right now, wasn’t that big of a person. “Go ahead and tell Mycroft that there might be complications from him.” Jim shrugged, “There isn’t really anything I can do about it if he figures it out, I haven’t got anything to offer him since he already has drugs and wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole outside of when he has to for scene work.” 

"Right. Will do." Sebastian watched Jim eating, making sure he made at least a token effort at the soup before he put his spoon down. Once they were ready to go he put his hand back on the small of Jim's back, giving his arse a quick pat and a little squeeze, "You should see the car I've got waiting, finally I can chauffeur you around in style..." 

Jim about jumped out of his skin when Sebastian touched his ass. Pain jolted up his spine and he stepped away quickly while he swore. He looked up at Sebastian’s stricken face, “’S alright, you just surprised me.” Jim stepped close again and wrapped an arm through Sebastian’s, looking ridiculous standing next to the man in his designer suit. “Tell me about your car.” He prompted, not wanting Sebastian to lose his good mood. 

Sebastian looked at him sideways, not convinced at all by that excuse, "Better than that, I can show you it, c'mon." He steered Jim outside, keeping hands well away from his arse, to where a sleek black Bentley was waiting on the curb. "There you go..." Reaching out he opened the side door for Jim, smirking at him. "Not bad, yeah? My dad owned one similar. This is on loan from Mr. Holmes so I'll try not to wrap it around a lamppost. And don't look at me like that, I've only had one beer, I'm well under." 

Jim flushed and tried to look unmoved when Sebastian opened his door for him. He slid inside and was relieved that the seats were just as nice as the ones in the restaurant. “Very nice,” He said even though he didn’t really know the first thing about cars. It /was/ nicer than Sebastian’s jeep though. He shrugged, “Not like I can make you hand over your keys, I’ve never driven before.” 

"Well you're not starting with this unless I really want to piss Holmes off." Sebastian shut the door and headed off, feeling happy and fairly smug to be driving Jim around in such an awesome car. If only Jim was dressed in a suit, and not drugged up, or being owned by Magnussen... he dragged his mind away from the thoughts and tried to find something to talk about that didn't involve porn or Holmes's. He settled for, "I've never been to that club before. Swanky. Would you like to go again sometime? If I give you a bit more warning than a whispered message from Wayland?" 

Jim rolled his eyes good naturedly, “I know I look shite but I do still own a /phone./ Text me next time, yeah?” He reached over and wrapped his fingers through Sebastian’s, missing the small contact. “Sure, anywhere you want to go is fine. I’m happy as long as you’re there and I get to eat.” 

"I've got food." Sebastian squeezed Jim's fingers gently, even though it made changing the gear a little difficult. "And a hell of a nice bathroom. And lots of water." He grinned as they drove up into a private parking area in Belgrave, "I don't trust phones. Not since Mags cancelled my one. And I'm damn sure Mycroft owns my new one, and Mags is watching yours. Not worth it." 

“Are you saying you want a bath?” Jim grinned and asked as they pulled up. That sounded fucking amazing right now. He sighed, wishing Sebastian was wrong about their phones. “Give me your new number anyway in case of an emergency. I’ll save it under a different name or something.” 

Sebastian nodded, going around to open the door for Jim and help him out, leading him up to the flat. It was pretty small, but as Sebastian had pointed out, in an area like this is still cost a bomb. The bathroom was the same size as the bedroom, with a large freestanding tub. Sebastian grinned at it then nodded, "Go on then. You could do with a wash." Tugging his suit jacket up he hung it on a peg, then loosened his tie. "And I wouldn't mind another bath if there's a hot young thing floating in it." 

Jim clenched his teeth, wishing Sebastian wouldn’t have to see him like this but if Jim avoided nudity every time he got fucked up at work there’d be no way to retain a relationship with Sebastian. He wasn’t going to let Magnussen take that from him even if it was fucking embarrassing. He tugged his jumper over his head and shucked off his jeans quickly, hissing a bit as the material scrapped over his arse. He turned to peek at himself in the mirror and winced at what he saw. His throat and face hadn’t healed much since yesterday but the swollen scratches on his hips had gone down. His arse was in a state, it pretty much looked—purple. John’s cream had taken some of the sting and swelling out of the welts but there wasn’t much you could do about bruises. 

Sebastian slouched against the door as Jim stripped, in his shirt smart trousers and half undone tie. He watched with a little smile as more of Jim revealed itself before straightening up with a face of thunder as the jeans finally hit the floor. Swallowing his anger with difficulty he came over, kneeling down in front of Jim and gently running cool hands over the back of his arse, assessing what had been done. Darren clearly - with some heavy wooden item and then a cane laid over the top. He felt his jaw clench but managed to say softly, "You poor little bugger. That looks fucking fierce. Don't run the water too hot or it'll sting like mad." 

Jim felt his face get hot with shame as Sebastian knelt in front of him and Jim couldn’t look at him. “It probably won’t be that bad again for a while. Sherlock got it just as bad as me except he didn’t get fucked at the end.” Jim shuddered, remembering how fucking awful that had been with the damage to his insides from Sebastian yesterday and Darren directly before. Sherlock had tried to be gentle but there wasn’t really much point by then. “Don’t know what he did to earn it. Mags said I needed a spanking, since I’d been so naughty.” He tried to smirk but it was more of a sneer. “If you want to watch I’m sure it’ll be online soon enough.” 

Sebastian stood up managing to control his rage with difficulty and wrapping his arms around Jim's shoulders, "Don't worry boss, we'll burn them all." his hands slid down Jim's back, stopping just before his arse, not wanting to do anything to increase the pain. He didn't particularly care much about Sherlock, if anything he was pleased the young man had a reason not to want to fuck anyone, including Jim, for a while. "Course I don't want to watch it - I shudder to think of how much paperwork destroying Mycroft's computer would cause." He licked around the shell of Jim's ear then separated, "You run the bath, I'll get some salt and arnica for the water. It'll help. Promise." 

Jim leaned against Sebastian’s chest and wrapped his arms around the other man fiercely, just wanting something good to hold on to when he felt so shite. He took a calming breath when they separated and started the bath. When Sebastian came back Jim said, “Sorry, I know you did this—all the time pretty much, before. I don’t mean to complain.” Secretly Jim wasn’t sure how Sebastian had tolerated it. 

"Yeah. Well. Me and Darren had a thing going." Seb managed shortly, "Also you haven't spent six years in public school and six in the army. And you're not a fucking useless masochist with an alcohol problem and an ego the size of China." He tipped the salt and arnica into the water and stirred it around with his hand, hanging his tie over the top of the shower head and then stripping his shirt off. "Complain all you want, s'what I'm here for.” Picking Jim up he swung him into his arms, holding him bridal style before lowering him arse first into the warm water. "Might sting a bit, but it'll feel good. Then you can fuck me senseless and we'll get some pizza." 

Jim groaned a bit in a mix of pain and pleasure when his arse hit the bottom of the tub. The heat felt amazing on his sore muscles but the water stung pretty badly from whatever Sebastian put in it. He was stupidly relieved that Sebastian hadn’t asked to fuck him, there was no way Jim would have been able to and he didn’t like to tell the man no. “When’s the last time you had sex?” Jim teased, “It’s been over a week now—that has to be some kind of record for you, poor thing. Get your clothes off and hop in here so you can wash my hair.” Jim bossed Sebastian lightly. 

"It has been over a week, my fucking balls'll fall off at this rate." Sebastian grumbled, stripping down and getting into the tub with Jim, pleased that the other hadn't wanted to call off sex entirely. “I got close enough to picking up at barman at the club - little tease flashing his tight little trousers everywhere." he got into the warm water with a groan of appreciation, pulling Jim into his lap and dumping a full sponge of water on his head. 

Jim sputtered a bit as the water poured over his hair and into his face. “I’m sorry the mean man teased you.” Jim was smirking even though he looked ridiculous with hair plastered to his face. “Why didn’t you? Pick him up? I never told you that you couldn’t fuck anyone else… well, besides Darren. I won’t be able to see you all the time, there’s no reason why you should hold off when there’s a pretty severe case of double standards going on.” 

Sebastian laughed, thinking Jim looked utterly adorable with the wet hair plastered to his face, "Ah come on, it's hardly double standards. You aren't fucking anyone for pleasure are you?" In reality it had never occurred to him that he'd be allowed other men and he gave a slightly embarrassed shrug. "You seriously saying that if you came over and found me tumbling around with some piece you'd be happy with that? You'd be at least slightly pissed, yeah? I can wait. I'm not /that/ out of control." He nipped at Jim's nose, "Although seeing you all wet and naked doesn't help..." 

Jim shrugged, “Watching you with Darren was worse than anything else you could do on your own. I’m not saying you have to or anything, but if you won’t I’ll still feel weird about it. The double standard I mean. Sex isn’t important to me, if you fuck someone else or don’t that’s just—okay. As long as there’s no one else as important as me.” Jim smirked down at Sebastian from his position in his lap. “And I don’t think anyone like that is going to come waltzing in anytime soon.” He tugged at Sebastian’s hair thoughtfully, “I don’t really want to see it so don’t go shoving it in my face or anything but what you do on your own time is your business.” Jim sighed heavily and looked away, “I don’t know. Mags is already having me fuck around with Sherlock at the flat, for now it’s ‘practice’ but I know he’s pushing for something more to start up- like with you and Darren. I might have to eventually.” 

"Oh don't worry, there won't be anyone like you - not unless there's any other hot little power-crazy murderers out there." Sebastian grinned, looking up at him with his hands on Jim's hips, keeping his arse away from sitting on anything painful. "I ... might. If it gets a while. But any time you change your mind just order me to stop the hell with fucking around and I'll stop." He reached up and bit at Jim's lower lip, shaking his head. "Nah - Darren was different. He was a tool to control me and I was a reward to keep him happy. Sherlock doesn't sound like he's very interested in either." 

Jim sagged a bit in relief, “That’s—good.” Sherlock was good at what he did, and was normally good at making Jim feel good. But none of the other actors fucked with his head the way Sherlock did, left him feeling empty and torn up inside. He hadn’t /wanted/ to be with Sherlock recreationally, he’d almost rather be given to Darren. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Jim said. He didn’t think he’d be changing his mind anytime soon- probably not until this job was over and that could take up to a year. Knowing Sebastian wasn’t going to be waiting around for him was kind of a relief actually, it closed a bit of the gap between them. Now Seb could fuck around as much as Jim did and they could be a little closer to being equal again. Jim reached under the water to tug at Sebastian’s cock, which was already a little hard. “Is there anything in particular you want to do while I’m here?” 

Sebastian could see Jim was looking more relieved and he had to admit the knowledge that if he was lonely and struggling he could pick up some bit in a club rather than struggling through alcohol was a help. He moaned a little as Jim tugged his cock, hugging around him, keeping his hands well away from Jim's aching arse. "W-well I was rather hoping to get fucked, I mean it has been a while. Other than that - whatever you need to feel better, to feel in control. Or even just to feel relaxed and forget the shit that he puts you through." 

“Alright,” Jim leaned down and kissed Sebastian’s mouth as he moved his hand lazily. “No marking me up though—you just can’t, I don’t want him to think I have anything outside of work. Although Sherlock’s face would almost be worth it.” He leaned his back against Sebastian’s legs and looked down at him calculatingly. “I thought I told you to wash my hair?” Jim kept his grip on Sebastian’s cock and moved his hand along the shaft. 

"No marking you up - course not..." Sebastian grinned in his face, hands moving up obediently to rub shampoo in Jim's hair, "If you want to make /really/ sure, I believe something about tying me down was mentioned? After all, you wouldn't want your big bad soldier boy getting all over-enthusiastic in the heat of passion...”

“Course not,” Jim mumbled against his mouth. “I’d hate to have to punish you.” Jim could have rolled his eyes at the line but he knew Sebastian ate that shit up so he didn’t. “I think that lovely tie you were wearing would make for decent restraints. Mycroft can always buy you another one.” Jim tightened his grip on Sebastian’s cock painfully. “Get shampoo in my eyes and you’ll regret it.” 

Sebastian gave a little moan, then bit at Jim's earlobe, "Oi - stop pissing around. You don't need to lay on the script, we're not being filmed." He regretted it as soon as he said it, squeezing Jim' hip hard and then going back to rubbing the shampoo over his hair, carding his fingers through it and moaning again as the hand tightened around his cock, "Unh ... I'm not exactly a skilled hairdresser..." he smirked, wiping around Jim's forehead to remove any excess shampoo, "You look fucking hot with wet hair." 

Jim stilled when Sebastian said that, not really sure what to say. “Least you’re not getting Richard.” Sherlock hadn’t wasted any time fucking Jim up again, it would have been - easy to fall into that role but he knew Sebastian would be able to tell. Besides, Jim didn’t want to let anyone take this away from him, one of the few good things he had right now. Sebastian gripped his hip in apology and Jim let those dark thoughts go. He smiled and wiggled in Sebastian’s lap a little. “Don’t lie, I look like a drowned rat.” 

"Don't want Richard." Sebastian grumbled low, "Rather have a slap in the face from you than 100 years of sex with 'Richard' - he sounds like a wanker." He smiled again as Jim wriggled in his lap, the water making everything smooth and stopping Jim's sore arse hitting him in uncomfortable ways. "You make a hell of a cute drowned rat - all black hair plastered down everywhere. He stroked Jim's hair upwards, rinsing the shampoo out. 

Jim smiled at him fondly, “Mags can have Richard but he can’t have me. You’re the only one that gets that.” He sighed as the warm water poured over his head and Sebastian didn’t get any soap in his eyes. Jim started moving his hand again, with more of a purpose now. 

"'S all I want to hear." Sebastian gave a little groan as Jim's hand started working again, the sponge washing gently down Jim's back as he stroked and petted over the other man's body. Even though Jim was drugged up it felt good to have him back, to know that they were still tightly knitted together despite the best efforts of the rest of the world. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Both Jim and Sherlock were allowed to recover before being thrown back into filming, with Magnussen's pale eyes watching them at every turn. There was no question of Jim topping now, even in the scenes he shared with Sherlock. The two of them were used, smacked, tied up, and put into a whole range of clichéd scenarios. For the most recent one Magnussen had used all three of them: Sherlock, Jim and Paul, and had them in a massive sauna scene - with five of the tops including Watson (but not Darren). Watson had spent almost the whole time with Sherlock, sparing him the attentions of the other men, who had instead shared Paul and Jim between them. After the first attempt at the scene they were ordered to shower off, with a strong implication that it would need to be reshot. Paul shouldered his way angrily past Jim and into the showers, hissing at Jim as he arrived, "This is all your fault. I used to do scenes fine with Sebastian, then you fucked everything up and now I get thrown in with random men. God I hope that heroin kills you." 

“How the fuck is Sebastian my fault?” Jim hissed out, stung by the comment regardless. He didn’t think he’d ever felt worse than this moment and that was saying a lot. He wanted to peel his skin off where he’d been touched. Jim had thought there wasn’t a lot that he could handle, and that was true, but he’d found his line and it was being shared like that. “He’s the fucking moron who hit Cam, I didn’t do shit. I was trying to calm him down.” He was teetering at the edge right now after weeks of abuse and Paul was pushing it. Jim wouldn’t acknowledge it right now but putting a fucking needle in his arm and overdosing sounded really tempting. Jim limped and turned the water on as hot as it would go and made himself stand it. “If you haven’t noticed I’m not exactly having the best time of it either.” 

Paul sneered at him, scrubbing hard at his skin, "Don't be a dick, god if you hadn't been there Sebastian would never have lost it. You were the one who screwed him over, made him get all het up at CAM. He just used to do his stuff and fool around with Darren. Then /you/ came along and suddenly he's getting all argumentative and pissy. I bet you even asked him to slap CAM." Paul glared at him, getting pretty worked up at this point, missing Seb and not really feeling great after such an intense scene, "Just because you can't fucking cope with being a whore. You think just because you're some college boy you shouldn't have to do degrading things like this - well you are a whore and you are no better than us and you'd better fucking get used to dicks." 

“I’m not at college anymore. I’m not Cam’s favorite, Seb beat me and left, and you’re right—I’m a whore just like you. Does that make you happy? To know someone else is just as fucked up and empty as you? Well congratulations.” Jim laughed in amazement, but it was a bitter and twisted thing. “God you are such a selfish bastard,” Jim bit out. “You realize he’s actually doing well for himself now? He’s living the high life and he doesn’t have to get his kicks with whores anymore. If you gave a shit for anyone except yourself you might be able to be happy for him. You’re just angry he got out when you know you’re going to live and die as a whore.” Jim wanted to take it back as soon as he said it but didn’t know how to apologize at the best of times. Now, when he was shaking and angry and hurting and scared it was impossible. 

"Happy for Seb - why are you?" Paul stepped closer, taking up his space under the shower and reaching up and turning the water to cold, "If he did hit you, and beat you, and fuck you? God you have no idea. Because it's never fucking happened to you, you know why? Because it happened to me, the first few days after I met him, just over from Prague and he fucked me till I couldn't bloody walk ... and you're swanning about all proud about how Sebby left a few little bruises on you?" He spat in Jim's face, "God I'm /glad/ we're doing another take, I want to see you get used by them all again, I d-don't fucking care…" 

Jim quietly wiped the spit from his face with the back of his hand and thought he’d probably deserved that. “You do care,” he said dully. “Of course you fucking care.” Jim turned the water off and took a breath, “I’m sorry that he did that to you. It’s shitty. This scene is shitty and intense.” Jim reached out and put his hand on Paul’s shoulder carefully, “I know the others say shit about you but- I think you’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for.” 

Paul stared at him, looking distinctly uncertain and slightly younger, then he shrugged Jim's hand off his shoulder. Grabbing both of Jim's shoulders he tugged him close, giving him a shake, "At least I'm a good whore..." he hissed "And Sebby was a good whore too. He won't last, he'll be back. He came back twice before..." His nails dug into Jim's back, "When he comes back, I'll tell him you screwed around with Darren every day, even off-camera. I'll tell him you whored yourself with Sherlock, I'll tell him whatever it takes to make him /hate/ you, and then you'll see what Sebastian's really like when he's pissed because you haven't seen /anything/." 

Jim grinned a snarl when he felt Paul’s nails dig into his back. “Why do you think he’d give a shit who I’ve fucked? He was the one that left, even if everyone in this place seems to think otherwise. You could tell the world Paul and no one would give a shit. Because no one gives a single fuck about whores.” 

Paul stared at him for a while longer, eyes wide and breath coming in gasps. Finally with a little sigh he dropped his head down against Jim's shoulder. "He cared for you..." he murmured. "He really did. And he didn't care for me..." He froze as he heard footsteps behind them, straightening up while his fingers dug into Jim again as Magnussen appeared, looking at them both with a blank expression. "Done?" Magnussen asked coldly, "We need to re-shoot sections. Come out now, don't mess it up." 

“Hey, it’s alright.” Jim mumbled and wrapped his arms around Paul’s shoulders tightly. “Somehow I started to give a shit about you even though you are a pissy little thing with an attitude and that’s not what you wanted from Sebastian but… it’s what you’ve got. At least that’s not like being entirely alone.” Jim moved his arms away when Magnussen came over and he looked at the ground. “Yes sir.” He answered dully and managed a bit of an eye roll for Paul after Mags had his back turned. 

Paul managed a small smile in return, although his eyes were pretty hopeless as they headed back out to set.


	14. Crocodile Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stormy- Magnussen, Sebastian  
> Me- Jim, Mycroft

Jim came into the studio the next day numbed out and high. He was sore as fuck from the scene yesterday and on any other day he might have been swept away by his indignant outrage. (Might have, because days like that were becoming less and less frequent lately.) Not today. That pressure had built up and up and up until he’d thought he’d go off like a shaken soda can. He wasn’t shaken today, but he certainly wasn’t steady either. Jim was untethered and it was close enough to being free that he didn’t mind so much. His mind was insulated and packed away behind cotton giving everything a sort of stuffy feeling. They could touch him now and it would be—okay. Because there was somewhere for that pressure to get out now. Jim hadn’t heard the person talking to him until they snagged his arm to get his attention. 

Paul had been chatting away for a few moments before realising Jim wasn't listening, grabbing at him and widening his eyes as Jim turned around. "God, you look like shit. Actual shit. You are an idiot..." He trailed off as Magnussen approached, glancing down and backing away. Magnussen looked at Jim for a few moments, his expression unreadable, and then laid a hand on his shoulder. "My office. Now. Wait for me. You are not in trouble. Go." He gave a steely glance at Paul, who rushed off into the showers. 

“Not in trouble?” Jim mumbled in surprise, his first words of the day. “That’s a first.” Still, he had the distant feeling that he /was/ in trouble as he grabbed his things and managed an almost reassuring look for Paul. He sat down in his chair and waited patiently, distantly upset that he had a /normal chair/ in Magnussen’s office. He wouldn’t be able to film today. Probably. No marks, that was the rule and Jim broke it. 

Magnussen stayed outside for a while, setting up a scene between Darren and Paulo with Paul naked and draped around for decoration. After a good ten minutes he entered the office, coming in and sitting opposite Jim before leaning forward and tugging his hoodie off his face, undoing the zipper and sliding it off Jim's shoulders, looking at the damage. He poked at Jim's cheek. "This is my property. You have damaged my property. Why?" 

Jim didn’t have an answer, not anything that wasn’t wrapped up in metaphor and irrational. He shook his head a bit and kept his eyes on the floor automatically. Jim had only been back a number of weeks but he’d lost himself in the role, in what he was doing, a long time ago. The hopelessness had taken hold and Jim was no longer able to just shake it off when he went home. 

Magnussen looked at him, then reached over and lifted his chin up, looking at his face. "Good. This is easier isn't it. Are you ready to give me a blow job yet? You never have. I think it is time you did. Would you like a hit first?" His eyes bored into Jim's and he gave his face a little slap. "How far have you gone down, hmm? Will you come up at all today?" His voice dropped low, so low it could only barely be heard, "Will you even come up when you visit Sebastian?" 

Jim allowed Magnussen to move his face around, and he couldn’t care all that much if Magnussen made him suck him off—he only felt that pit of disgust in his gut grow heavier. This was kind of the goal, wasn’t it? Or a path to his goal. So why did he feel like he’d just lost? “If you tell me to suck you off, I’ll suck you off.” Jim murmured, “Why is that so surprising? It’s not any different than the shit you have me do on set every day.” That’s what Jim kept telling himself, but he had a bad feeling that it wasn’t really the case. He shook his head, “I already had—enough before I came in.” More than enough. He blinked when Magnussen slapped him lightly, not making the connection with his second week on set when he’d slapped Magnussen back for doing this. Jim looked up in confusion when he heard the last question. “Sebastian?” Jim hadn’t seen him in… a while. It had almost been easy to forget, while he was here he had to forget—he didn’t have anything outside of this, and Jim had actually forgotten. 

"Good boy..." Magnussen stroked his hair, then stroked his cheek over the already fading red mark. "You are in no state to be here. To be anywhere. Go and sit in the car. We'll go home. My home. You will suck me off in the car." He smiled and stroked Jim's hair again. "Such a good boy. Go now. Do you mind if I have Paul beaten today?" 

Jim wasn’t in a fit enough state to play these games and Magnussen knew it. “Why are you asking /me?/” Jim said in surprise. He took a breath and tried to clear a little bit of the fog from his mind, enough for a minute of decent focus. “Are you saying that you want something from me? In exchange?” Magnussen had played that game before. 

Magnussen watched him carefully through his glasses, giving a small smile at the response, noticing that it had been enough to raise Jim up and slightly annoyed at that. "Not at all. I just wondered how much you cared. You seem to like him. Certainly more than Sherlock..." He glanced out the door, where Paul was draped over a cushion eating grapes as Darren and Paulo writhed around on a rug, the damage to his arse the day before still visible "Would you like to stay in a flat with him? He will teach you to be a good whore." 

“Sherlock’s a good whore, and I get drugs at that flat. Pretty sure Paul and I would kill each other before the week was out.” Jim just didn’t know. On one hand it would be nice to get away from the pressure of letting something of his plan or Sebastian slip to Sherlock, but he didn’t know what kind of place Paul lived in, or even if they /could/ get along. At least Sherlock was spaced out most of the time. “People just- bond sometimes when they feel shit. Misery loves company and all that. It doesn’t mean anything.” Jim wasn’t all that sure it /did/ mean anything. He wouldn’t consider them friends and knew Paul would throw him under the bus in a second if their positions were reversed, but something told Jim that the only think keeping him from ending up like Paul down the line was a willingness to give a shit about what happened to other people. Paul had lost that luxury a long time ago but Jim wasn’t that far gone. 

"It doesn't mean anything." Magnussen nodded, stating it as a fact. "Get in the car then, I will join you. You cannot film until my property is mended." He stood then, holding the door open for John and nodding at Darren. "Paul will be safe today, but I think you know not to expect him to be grateful." It was fascinating, watching Jim fight against the dark rush that dragged him down. Jim was a clever young man, smart, bright, going places. And Magnussen had reduced him to something dull and slow and empty. All within a month. 

Jim nodded and followed him out, making sure to make eye contact with John as he passed. It was something. Jim had won something even if it wasn’t for himself and it was only for one day. That knowledge didn’t bolster him but that was probably okay too. He sunk back into the fog like a crocodile that peeked its eyes above the water for a moment and took a breath before submerging itself again. He got in the car, which he distantly recognized as being expensive. Jim realized he didn’t actually know where he was going. Magnussen said “his home” but that could mean anything. Magnussen owned property all over the country, they could just be going to one of his flats. Nerves shocked and jolted under his skin, Jim hadn’t thought about it but he’d never been really alone with Magnussen before and he had no idea what the man was capable of. No one knew where Jim was going. 

Magnussen got in the car, nodding to the driver and putting a hand on Jim's leg. He patted and squeezed it gently, not like a lover, more like a man admiring the quality of an object. Nodding down between his legs he said, "Sit down there. Undo my trousers. I expect to cum by the time we reach Appledore."

Something in Jim /sung/ knowing that he was so close to his goal. He just needed to get away somehow… he moved on autopilot to kneel between Magnussen’s legs and almost lost his balance and fell over when the car gave a lurch and turned. Fucks sake he was going to choke if the floor kept moving out from under him like that. “Appledore? That’s a queer name.” He said as he reached forward and undid the man’s belt and trousers. Nausea rose up for a moment when Jim took the man’s cock out but he swallowed the feeling back and sunk his mouth down around him carefully, worried about being jolted around and catching him with his teeth. 

"It's a queer place." Magnussen gave nothing away behind the glint of his glasses, just pressed a hand lightly on Jim's head as he got on with the job, eyebrow raising as he choked when the car went over a bump but otherwise saying nothing. His body trembled a little as he got close, and he closed his eyes and leant back. All he said was "You will swallow" before cumming into Jim's mouth. 

Jim could have cried at the irony. He came into porn with two skills in the oral sex department—try not to choke and swallow. Jim had learned a lot over the months he’d been here but in the end all Magnussen wanted was that same shit Jim started with. His eyes watered a bit from the abuse to his throat but he swallowed like he was told (as if he’d ever be stupid enough to spit in Mag’s fucking car) and did up the man’s trousers again, insulated by the waters in his mind. 

"Good boy. Stay down there." Magnussen patted and petted his head as the car drove up the driveway. When it arrived, he opened the door, getting out and snapping his fingers at Jim to follow as he headed inside. "You will stay in my bedroom. You will /not/ walk around, you will /not/ go anywhere else. I will bring you what you need. When you are healed sufficiently you will go back to the studio." 

Jim sat and let his mind wander while Magnussen petted him like a dog. He didn’t think he ever wanted anyone to touch his hair again. Jim got out and then froze when he heard what Magnussen said, “Wait—how long will I be here? I thought this was just a day thing.” Part of Jim thought that this was good, he’d have unsupervised time in the house… but knew Magnussen would never make it that easy for him. Jim clutched his bag tightly as if he was prepared to bolt. He didn’t want to be here that long. But he didn’t know when he’d get another chance like this… if he ever would. 

"You will be here until you are ready to film again. What is the point of you being anywhere else?" Magnussen stalked over and grabbed him by the hair, tugging it upright, hard. "Where will you go? Where will you run? You did not watch the car driving and you have no idea where we are. You need the drugs, daily, you need somewhere to stay. It might as well be here. I want to fuck you and I will. Every night while we are here. I will not be brutal. I am not Darren. I doubt you will enjoy it. That does not matter. Get inside." 

Jim didn’t relax even when Magnussen released his hair, he couldn’t. He felt shaken despite the numbness which he desperately clung to now—he couldn’t do this if he wasn’t numb. But he couldn’t do his job if he was out of it. Jim watched blankly as Magnussen keyed in security codes and went through various checks before they were let inside. Jim would bet anything there was a team of security here, maybe not inside the house but outside. He wouldn’t get anywhere if he tried to run, it was best to just accept he was here and not going anywhere. The house was beautiful but cold and Spartan. Jim hated it. 

Magnussen's bedroom was large, white and empty, with pine walls painted over in pale coloured paint. In the middle, a metal bed, large mattress and white sheet. There was a computer table in the corner, with no computer, and a door at the side that lead into a bathroom. Behind the bed was a large window, propped open making the room seem colder. Magnuessen stalked over and closed it, but the empty leafless trees outside were still clearly visible through the large pane. "Strip. You have no need of clothes here. You will stay in this room. Wash now, and then I will fuck you." 

Jim paused, desperately trying to think of something he could say or do to shift this situation in his favor but there was literally nothing. Jim nodded and stepped into the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door and turned the shower on cold while he tried to short out his head around the panic that built. This was the job that Mycroft gave him, they’d both known that this was going to be the only way in and Jim had signed on for this (…sort of) and he’d be damned if everything he went through was for nothing because he got cold feet and fucked it up at the crucial moment. Besides it shouldn’t be—it /wasn’t/ a big deal. After these months and yesterday especially, what was one more set of hands on him? It was just a comfort until now, pretending that Magnussen hadn’t already fucked him- in all the ways that mattered. Jim couldn’t hide from that truth anymore. There was something liberating and damning in it all the same. He didn’t take too long in the shower and he came out again still drying off but nude. 

Magnussen was still dressed, but he'd taken out his laptop and placed it on the computer table, tapping away with long considered fingers. He barely looked up as Jim came out of the shower, just said coldly, "Bend over the bed. I will be a while." And continued to type. 

He smiled quietly and dropped the towel on the floor, not bothering to hang it up. “Careful, if I didn’t know you better my feelings might be hurt.” Richard watched Magnussen carefully, still smiling. He climbed onto the bed and laid on his back before rubbing his hands across his chest and throat, barely teasing. 

Magnussen stopped work and looked up, raising an eyebrow and shutting the computer. Coming over to the bed he looked down at Jim, shaking his head and giving a little smile, "Look at you, silly little boy playing a silly little game." Reaching down he tugged at Jim’s cock, still with the faint smile, "Don't start thinking you’re clever, my bright little magpie, we've already clipped your wings." 

“I got you to come play, didn’t I?” Richard had. He’d thought it would take more effort—that he’d have to tease longer to get Magnussen to put down the laptop. “That game was over so quickly, it was almost boring.” Richard somehow managed to pout and smile at the same time, watching the other man through half lidded eyes. 

Magnussen continued tugging his cock, eyes roaming over his body, "Very impressive. Very good. Did Sherlock teach you that?" He tugged a little harder, "Or is that how you act for Sebastian." 

Magnussen wasn’t very gentle but Richard wasn’t expecting him to be. He felt himself harden but chose not to think about it too closely, focusing on the game. “Sebastian? He doesn’t want me.” His grin widened at the private joke. 

"But he did. Did he like it like this? With you all flirty and giggly?" Magnussen climbed onto the bed, looming over him, tugging at his cock with one hand while the other traced a finger around Jim's chest and neck. "That doesn't sound like my Tiger. Did he like you crying and begging? Or am I all wrong, and did /you/ like taking /him/." 

“Ding ding ding!” Richard imitated a winning alarm and showed teeth in a feral grin. “Yeah, I did take him. And he fucking loved it.” He didn’t mind sharing this information anymore, Sebastian wasn’t around to get in trouble over it and he didn’t have a lot to lose at this point. If the details of his relationships amused the man then that made them valuable, even if only for a moment. 

Magnussen's face went cold for a moment and he reached up and slapped Jim hard around the face. "Stop playing. That explains a lot. My Tiger is a fighter, but he'd bend over for anyone who snapped an order at him. I had him taken by big men, by Darren, by people who could give him the hurt he needed. But you? You'll spoil him. You'll ruin him. You can’t use him properly." He sighed, "It's a waste." Standing up again he headed to the window "Get over the bed. Arse up. I won't ask again." 

Jim startled as the hand came down across his face and his head whipped to the side with the force of it. After Magnussen got up he checked his mouth for bleeding and sat up. “I don’t do anything for him, not anymore. If you’d like to discuss his management you should talk to Holmes.” Jim tinged the words with bitterness that came easily under the circumstances as he got into position. 

"You think Holmes will sell me back my Tiger?" Magnussen gave a small dry chuckle watching as Jim got into position, giving his thigh a small slap, "Maybe he will, once you're broken. There will be nothing to stop him. And Sebastian will miss Darren - he does love the way that man treats him. In a few more months I should have him, do you think Holmes would exchange him for his brother? He does care for his brother, though he pretends he doesn't."

Jim didn’t have anything to say so he stayed quiet and concentrated on breathing and getting through this. The sooner he was done the sooner Magnussen would leave and then he could get to work. He thought that if Mycroft /did/ go against Jim and sold Sebastian back he would fucking burn him alive after all this shit he’d gone through because of him. “You sure you don’t want Richard?” He asked with just a hint of sarcasm. “He’s a lot more pleasant. He might even cry for you.” 

Magnussen stood behind him, unzipping his trousers and squeezing at his backside, "Richard is a little slut, fit for filming and pornography. If I wanted to fuck a slut I would be here with Paul. He annoys me. Jim is ... beautiful. Like a shattered mirror. Beautiful, sharp and broken." He started pressing himself into Jim, dry and slow. 

Jim bared his teeth in a silent snarl at the pain, “Just be careful not to cut yourself.” He bit out as his hands gripped the bedding tightly. That last little quip was about the last of the fight Jim had left and he sagged against the bed, trying to relax so it wouldn’t fucking hurt so much. It felt like the sound of his breathing echoed in the barren room. 

Magnussen didn't answer but one hand traced over the marks Jim had made last night in his own skin, while his other rested on Jim's hip. He'd already cum once in the car so it didn’t take too long. As he'd said, he wasn't rough, but the lack of lube, and the lack of Jim's arousal stopped it from being pleasant. He pulled out of Jim, wiped himself on the sheet, then zipped up again, picking up his laptop. "I have to get some business done. You will stay here." 

Jim grit his teeth as he stood and avoided Magnussen’s eyes. He couldn’t hide a wince when he stood up, he was pretty well fucked raw after yesterday and adding this on top of it meant Jim was in a lot of pain. If Magnussen had been any rougher he would have torn him but that slow maddening pace had only burned terribly. He looked up from the floor and stared at Cam with dead eyes, “What? You aren’t going to hide all the sharp objects from me? Baby proof the room?” 

"You will not kill yourself." Magnussen said simply, looking back at Jim, "The more you hurt yourself, the longer you will stay here. Stop making empty threats. Wash yourself again. Food will be brought to you. You will survive." With that he left, and there was the sound of the door locking behind him. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

He'd not said anything to Jim, how could he? The boy was going through enough, and Sebastian hadn't wanted to push the already fragile state of mind he was in, in case it snapped. A few times he'd tried to gently tease Jim out, calling him Boss and Sir, but all the kid wanted to do was curl up with him, maybe fool around a little, and sleep out like a light. And then Jim had stopped turning up at all. He'd got John Watson up against a wall and the man had stayed stubbornly silent, but he hadn't taken more than a few slaps to Sherlock before the little junkie rolled his eyes and admitted that Magnussen had taken Jim off "I knew you hadn't left him, you're both so /obvious/ it's amazing CAM doesn't see it." That sent a chill right down him because really, they didn't know that CAM /hadn't/ seen it and with the possibility that Jim was already a corpse rotting in Appledore he'd slammed his way into Mycroft's office, angrily motioning at the people inside to get out, "Alright you fucker, convince me you know what you're doing or you'll be swallowing your teeth." 

Mycroft /almost/ rolled his eyes, he’d hoped that Moran would stay ignorant for a bit longer but perhaps he had underestimated the man’s drive. He set down his pen and adjusted a book sitting on his desk while he gathered his thoughts. “Please spare me your threats Moran. We’re doing everything we can, of course. I want this to be a success, more than you do- I imagine.” 

"He's fucking /vanished/ and he's getting worse each time I see him." Sebastian snarled, slamming fists down onto the desk, scattering the carefully ordered stationary. "And you're damn right I don't care if it's a success. I don't give a shit if this man ransomes the whole damn British government. I just want to take the kid, get safe, and sort him out." 

“Your concern is touching, truly.” Mycroft folded his hands carefully under his chin. “Do you really think me that incompetent? We know exactly where he is. You do too, don’t you? He’s with Magnussen, at Appledore. There’s nothing we can do for him while he’s in there, it’s entirely up to him but he’s a resourceful little thing, isn’t he? Perhaps you should show a bit more faith in his abilities.” 

"I'd have more 'faith' if he wasn't drugged up." Sebastian glared at Mycroft, some of the anger subsiding now he at least had an idea where Jim was. Appledore. And despite being ordered not to by both his bosses he was strongly tempted to stake out the place with a pair of long range binoculars. "You do know what I'll do to you if Magnussen breaks him don't you?" He said almost companionably, leaning against the desk and picking up a pen on it, tapping it against the side of the wood. "Don't think for a moment I wouldn't do it. There's only one thing you can threaten me with now, and he's drugged up and trapped in Appledore." 

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Mycroft said, reading the temptation in Sebastian’s face. “Or by all means, play directly into his hand. I’m sure he’d /love/ to have the both of you trapped there, playing the two of you against each other until he’s broken his toys and throws them out. Stay away from Appledore. As soon as Moriarty makes contact you’ll be the first to know.” Mycroft looked Sebastian up and down lazily. “What are you going to do? Give me a smack like you did my brother?” 

Sebastian gave a laugh, snapping the pen between his fingers, and throwing the broken ends onto the desk. "It'll be a hell of a lot more than that. It'll be everything I was never allowed to do to you at school and then some, you cocky fuck." he knew this was dangerous, with Jim still alive and presumably functioning Mycroft held a lot of power over both of them. "I'll break your body, and you know I could. But hopefully for both of us, and the entire British Prison System, the kid will get what you need then get the fuck out of dodge. He's going to have a hell of a time getting off the heroin." 

Mycroft smiled blandly, “Yes, very sad. You know there’s no recovery from heroin? Out of the few who manage to stay sober for a year 85% will still relapse. It’s a life-long addiction that never really goes away.” Mycroft picked up the broken bits of pen and tossed them in the bin, unconcerned. “You can be angry at me if you’d like, he would have relapsed anyway. I could see it in him. He was maybe a day away from breaking. And I’m not sure you could have told him no, not if he begged you?” Mycroft watched Moran, curious despite himself.

Sebastian stared at him and then lunged forward, bounding onto the desk and kneeling on it while his hands fixed around Mycroft's neck, pressing without squeezing as he locked into a hold, pushing him back so that his chair balanced on two legs and his head pressed against the wall. "Do you know what they threw me out the army for?" He growled, "Course you do, read the file. Did you read it all? Did you read what I did to those prisoners? Did you read that they /begged/?" His hands twisted a little, squeezing but only to warn, not to actually stop breath. He didn't want Mycroft passing out and missing the fun. "That's what everyone jokes, isn't it - Sebby the Trained Tiger, Sebby the little lapdog, first for Mags then for some slip of a boy. Let me tell you if that kid wants off heroin, I will get him off heroin, and if he begs and whines and screams so desperately his voice is horse I'll hold him down till he stops, even if it takes all day." 

“Good.” Mycroft bit out, pleased at his answer even if he was about three seconds away from having Sebastian’s hands removed from his body. “Now let go before I call my people in here and have you locked up. Keep in mind Moran than you can’t do anything for him if you are in the MI6 basements.” 

Sebastian sat back, letting go and watching Mycroft's chair bounce back into position, suddenly realising he was crouching on top of a desk and clearing his throat a little awkwardly before getting down. He could tell that he'd been allowed to get away with a hell of a lot already and straightened his tie up. "Well. Just so you know, yeah." 

Mycroft straightened up and stared at the man, unamused. “There’s something else you’ll need to be aware of it you’re intending to handle the boy’s recovery.” Mycroft looked away, slightly uncomfortable. “It appears he harmed himself the evening before he was moved to Appledore, probably so that Magnussen could keep an eye on him. There’s a possibility he did it purposefully to get Magnussen’s attention, the proverbial blood in the water. There’s also the possibility that it… wasn’t his intention and this all came about by chance. It would be a pity if after everything he was lost due to your carelessness.” 

"Right." Sebastian managed through clenched teeth, hating Mycroft more with every word, and hating himself as well for not taking this professionally. He was far too involved but he'd be damned if he was about to back off now. "Anything else you need to tell me? Has he been looking up gas ovens? Buying toasters and bathtubs on the same purchase? You're slowly driving him off the edge you piece of shit, and do you really think Magnussen is going to trust him with any information until he's gone?" 

Mycroft shrugged and got to work on tidying his desk, “Right now they’re playing a very complicated game of chicken. Either Moriarty will convince Magnussen he’s won prematurely or Magnussen will break him. I wouldn’t have chosen him for this if I didn’t think he had a chance.” 

"You always were a smug little shit." Sebastian sneered back, tugging his cuffs down, "Doesn't it bother you that your baby brother's mixed up in all this? You got dad to cane my arse raw just for smacking him around in school, now this bastards having him fucked on a daily basis and you don't give a shit? Do you really care /that/ much for this damn country?" 

He stopped cleaning and looked up at Sebastian with a totally blank expression. “My brother,” his voice was very quiet but firm. “Has been prostituting himself until last month. He was homeless and willing to do absolutely anything to stay high. Magnussen has been /good/ for him.” Mycroft said, sneering the words, feeling the bitterness of his own failings rise up. “Everyone at that studio is clean, he has a pace to live and while, yes, ‘he’s being fucked on a daily basis’ it’s in a controlled environment where he is not at risk for being permanently harmed or killed. His relationship with Dr. Watson has not escaped my notice either. So while this is hardly an ideal situation it’s the best he’s been for years. I’ve learned to take my wins where I find them.” 

"Magnussen fucks over everyone." Sebastian replied with another sneer, "He'll fuck over your brother and he'll fuck over you. He's a shark in a suit and I should never have bloody well left the kid with him." With that, he stormed out the office, stopping for just a moment outside before muttering a "right" and walking straight out of the building, needing to clear his head.


	15. Pyrrhic Victory

Jim stood under the shower spray blankly and let his mind drift as he scrubbed himself down with soap. He no longer had any reason to wash his hair. That first night when Magnussen left Jim had scoured the bathroom until he found a pair of electric clippers and he’d shorn his hair short in an act of rebellion. Mostly he’d been tired of getting yanked about by his hair. Magnussen had punished him, obviously. After being tied to the bed for nearly two days Jim hadn’t felt the need to fight anymore and he spent the time Magnussen was away doing nothing. He mostly took drugs and slept. Magnussen had eventually brought him a few books, as a test, but Jim hadn’t touched them anymore than he’d touched the food Magnussen brought him. The man hadn’t made a single mistake with Jim after that first night. He never slipped up about the vaults, the door was always locked and Jim wasn’t allowed to wander the house. The cuts on his wrist had almost healed up and he would probably be taken back to the studio within the next couple of days. He needed more time. 

Magnussen opened the door, watching quietly as Jim showered, considering. He was proud of Jim, or rather, he was proud of what he had made him - the blank twitching little druggy, naked with a shaved head, was worlds away from the charming and intelligent young man doing an Oxford degree that he had first met. He was impressed, that people could be so easily changed, so easily broken, and he'd chosen Jim as a challenge. It was almost time, time to twist the final key, time to trap Jim so securely in his own dark palace that he'd built for himself, piece by piece as Magnussen watched on. Humiliating Mycroft would be an added bonus. He thought briefly of his Tiger but dismissed the thought. Sebastian was an old experiment; imperfect. Had he had the chance to go over that time again he would have done it differently. 

After a moment or two Jim noticed Magnussen standing there, he didn’t even startle. He just turned the water off and grabbed a towel and dried as he walked past the man into the bedroom. It was still strange and vaguely humiliating to never be allowed clothes but that was so far down Jim’s list of concerns right now he didn’t spare it more than a thought. Food had been a problem. He was wasting away and he noticed a huge decrease in his energy levels and mental processes, even emotional stability was compromised. Jim dropped the towel and curled up on the bed in a ball on his side with his back turned away from Mags. If he wanted to fuck him he would say so, but until then Jim was free to mostly ignore him. Magnussen seemed to prefer it that way. It was almost time for the man to sleep. Jim dreaded this time, he hated sleeping in a bed with Magnussen more than he hated being fucked by the man. Some nights he would startle awake with the man’s fingers up his ass or his mouth on his neck and when it wasn’t that he would be rutted against in his sleep. Jim closed his eyes and tucked his head tighter against his knees. 

Magnussen watched Jim walk out of the shower, moving to pull the door shut, shut but not locked, and then went to his computer. After about half an hours typing, he stripped and laid down next to Jim, running a hand through the stubble of his hair, "I like you like this." He murmured. "Of course it makes it longer until you can go back to the studio. But it is clean. Functional. Broken. I might keep you like this." 

Jim was hyper aware of the unlocked door but he kept perfectly docile and relaxed while he tried to plan around the fog in his mind. What would be safest? He could sneak out after Magnussen had fallen asleep? He could hit Magnussen over the head with something? Tie him up? Should he do it now? No he should wait. Jim’s crocodile eyes peeked over the surface of the water, waiting. Magnussen climbed in next to him and wrapped his body around Jim and his arms were a cage. He tried not to think of the time he’d spent at Sebastian’s flat curled up together like this, taking comfort from it. He didn’t want to associate those memories with this. This Jim didn’t have those memories. He didn’t reply to Magnussen’s goading, Jim didn’t think he’d spoken since Magnussen untied him from the bed. He didn’t want to be tied up again. 

Magnussen touched him, petted him, tugged his cock a few times and then gave him a few little pinches on the arse before rolling over, curling up away from Jim and closing his eyes. 

Jim watched the green light of the clock patiently, hardly daring to breathe while he waited for two hours to pass. Magnussen hadn’t stirred in that time and Jim was worried he’d wake again if he didn’t leave soon. The mattress had very little give, and Jim was silent as he padded across the floor on bare feet. He turned the light on in the bathroom and closed the door, hoping that if Magnussen /did/ wake he would think Jim was in the toilet. He peeked over his shoulder one last time to check if Cam was sleeping before he carefully edged the bedroom door open and slipped out. 

He had gone over the layout of what he saw of the house his first day. There hadn’t been anything that struck him as looking particularly vault like. They were presumably underground so Jim quickly and efficiently searched the house for anything that led to a staircase. Nothing. Jim started to panic as he went over everything again. It /had/ to be here. Jim was on the second floor standing on a balcony that observed an indoor garden when it hit him. “No.” He whispered and his face drained as he spun around and ran back the way he came until he reached that peculiar closet he’d seen during his initial sweep. He swung the doors open and the overhead light came on automatically, lighting a very small room with nothing but a chair that faced a blank wall. “No…” This time it was more of a groan and all the pieces fell together—or apart. He’d been played. There were no fucking vaults. 

Magnussen had left the bed as soon as Jim had gone, watching as the boy skittered nervously around, naked and desperate, and becoming increasingly more desperate as the time went by. He gave something that was almost a smile as Jim found the room, switching on the light behind him so they were both illuminated, "Would it have been worth it, if they had existed?" He asked lightly, coming closer. "To have broken your mind and body, lost yourself and lost your Sebastian. Would that have been worth it for these 'vaults'? Or would you have still felt just as empty. Just as cold." 

Jim turned slowly as he heard Magnussen speak from behind him. “Yeah,” he whispered. “It would have been worth it, if it meant I was free.” Everything was still but Jim knew at any moment he’d get pushed over a precipice and he had no idea which way he’d fall. “There’s nothing. Not just here… anywhere probably. You don’t… you don’t actually have /anything/ do you? It’s all a bluff. You never had proof that I killed Carl Powers, you didn’t need it. Even your word, pulling a few strings was enough to open up an investigation.” 

Magnussen watched him, saw him trembling and came over, stroking his shorn head from behind. "You are not free. You will never be free. Not because of me, but because of you. You took the drugs, willingly. You gave yourself to all those men, the sauna scene, the beatings, you accepted them and took them. You gave yourself to me, every night you were here. In here." he tapped his head "there is everything. But in here." He tapped at Jims, "Nothing. I can still open an investigation, I can still set the mafia back on your Tiger. I can still find everything I need whenever I need it. You could have run away so many times. But now you never will." 

Jim reached up slowly and took the hand that Magnussen still held against his head. For a moment Jim held his hand like that, teetering… teetering. And he decided he’d rather die here and be free than spend one more day as Magnussen’s slave. He grabbed the wrist and twisted until he heard a snap and then he ran. 

There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him and then a bodyguard was grabbing at him, twisting both hands behind his back and marching him back to face Magnussen, remaining impassive as Jim's emaciated and weakened body struggled against him. Magnussen approached, eyes steely, holding the broken wrist with the other hand. Leaning down he hissed into Jim's face, "That was very stupid. Now what use do you think I have for you? There will be plenty of men that do though - that will not mind if you are skinny and shaved, tied in a basement." he nodded at the guard, who tightened his grip, twisting Jim's arms painfully. "Nobody knows you are here, and if they do, they do not care." 

Jim gave a whimper as his bad shoulder was pulled at. It had technically fully healed by now but previously dislocated joints were terribly easy to dislocate again and it still hurt like hell. Mycroft knew. He /had/ to he wouldn’t—just leave Jim here to be prostituted out of Magnussen’s basement. But wouldn’t he? What use did he have for Jim when the job he’d sent him in for was a bust. Mycroft didn’t have to keep his word, he could throw Jim in prison if he did bother to extract him. “Fuckin kill me then and be done with it. I won’t be your whore.” He pulled and twisted in the guard’s hold, trying to break free. 

"I don't want to kill you." Magnussen leaned forward and licked the side of his face. "I want to own you. And I do." He shook his head, disappointed, "At one point you were even thinking of challenging me. And now look at you. You want me to kill you. Is that how far you've sunk? There's nothing you can steal or destroy to get yourself free, because it's all up here..." he tapped his head, the frowned slightly at a small movement behind the bodyguard and then there was a loud BANG and he crumpled, small bleeding bullet mark through the exact centre of his forehead.

Jim stared in shock, didn’t even notice when the body guard loosened his grip on him, didn’t try and hide, didn’t even duck down, his entire focus was on the man lying dead on the ground and the way his blood spread until it pooled around Jim’s feet. 

The bodyguard growled, spun around and then collapsed on the other side of the Jim to the accompaniment of a second shot. Sebastian strode out of the bushes, sniper rifle in one hand, and a holdall in the other, which he dropped next to Jim, before kneeling down in front of him, stroking the side of his face gently where Magnussen had licked it. "Alright boss? I've left an insulting note on Mycroft's desk, lets sod off." 

Jim took a shaky step back but couldn’t take his eyes off of Magnussen’s body. “Wh—what?” Jim started shaking very badly as his mind started catching up with what had happened, what had almost happened, what had to happen now. “Seb? Sebastian?” He finally looked away from the body and looked at Sebastian instead with wide eyes, trying to understand. “What are you doing here?” 

"Mycroft said you were here." Sebastian unzipped the holdall quickly, tugging out a dark green shirt and a pair of dark grey slacks in Jim's size and handing them over. "Didn't bring underwear, I thought you'd be dressed at least. What the fuck did he do to your hair?" He slowed down as he saw the wide-eyed lostness in Jim’s eyes, not wanting it to turn into panic. Gently placing a hand on Jim's chest to ground him, he said gently. "I followed you here, watched the place, and I've just shot Mags in the fucking head. You're free. We both are. Now let’s scoot before the rest of the damned bodyguards get here."

“I did it—shaved it. Fuck him.” It seemed really important right now when everything else was spinning out of control. Jim had fought back. “Okay, just… alright.” Jim knew he was on the verge of a panic attack and he tried to keep his breathing at a manageable speed while he quickly got dressed. He stared at Mags some more while he did it, feeling a wash of relief so profound his legs almost buckled. “We need to go.” Jim said but he was a little lost, not sure which way they were leaving so he looked at Sebastian for directions. 

"It'll be easier if I carry you." Sebastian said gently, waiting for a sign that Jim was okay with this and adding, "I've got the jeep round the back, we just need to get out of Appledore.” Holding Jim in his arms he sprinted across the lawn as the lights started to come on around the house, swearing under his breath as they reached the perimeter fence. "You alright to climb?" 

“Yes.” No. But what was he going to do, climb the fence with Jim on his back? Jim could climb if it was a choice between staying here and escaping. Jim started and Sebastian waited underneath him, presumably to catch him if he fell. By the time he got to the top Sebastian had already caught up and gotten over, standing on the ground on the other side of the fence. Jim smiled down at him, a bit exhilarated despite the circumstances. “You really need to stop smoking,” Jim wheezed. “Or one day I’ll be able to keep up with you.” He joked before quickly shimmying down the fence, half climbing half falling the rest of the way. They ran the rest of the way to the jeep and Jim barely managed to get himself in the front seat before Sebastian was starting up the jeep and speeding away. Jim was unsuccessfully trying to catch his breath. “I need—to call Mycroft. Please tell me you still have that phone he gave you.” 

Watching Jim trying to scale a fence, trembling and pale, had been difficult but he'd hardly had any other choice. The searchlights and guards were scurrying around Appledore like ants, and it had taken a lot of patients not to snap at Jim to run faster. He pulled the jeep out as quickly as he could, reaching into his jacket at Jim's words and tossing the phone across. He had no idea what Jim was going to call Mycroft about, and he desperately hoped he wouldn't be packed back to work there, but if there was ever a time to shut up and trust the boss it was now. 

Jim took the phone with shaking hands and dialed Mycroft’s number and waited for the phone to pick up. It only rang twice even though it was almost three in the morning by this point. “Mycroft?” Jim asked, hoping the man might not give them /too/ much shit over this but not hoping for a miracle. “I’m out. Magnussen’s vaults have been destroyed.” /Technically/ that had been his job, right? Jim would not go to prison after this, he couldn’t. 

"What, how?" Mycroft's voice snapped back, while Sebastian gave Jim a sideways look. Clearly no part of Appledore had been destroyed and Sebastian wasn't sure what Jim was hoping to get from the lie. "There's sensitive information in there that we would rather like to get hold of. What did you do with it?" And then, after a short pause, "Please don't tell me Sebastian did something ... stupid..." 

“Sorry Mycroft,” Jim said, not sounding very sorry at all. “No one can have Magnussen’s information anymore. The loaded gun to your head is gone, my job is done.” Technically. Jim looked sideways at Sebastian. “Magnussen never had any physical proof of anything he was holding over people’s head. He just knew it. Information. And his power and wealth gave him the ability to turn that information into a weapon. There wasn’t a leaf of paper in that house, go over the thing with a fine tooth comb—there was never anything there, you got played.” They all had. 

"Ah..." there was a small brief silence and then Mycroft said, "Very well, I suppose your job is done. If Magnussen has nothing on you, I certainly don't unfortunately the ravings of my brother are not hugely influential in court." There was another brief pause and then Mycroft said, sounding a little weary. "You're free to go. Sebastian as well, although something tells me he's already there. If I were you I would stop using this phone." 

Jim looked and smiled at Sebastian, still riding this high while he could because he knew when he came down Jim was going to be in a fucking awful state. “You fuck. You were seriously going to use whatever Magnussen had on me to get me thrown in prison? You’re a cold hearted bastard Mycroft Holmes.” Jim settled wearily against the back of his seat. “I think I’d like to discuss my terms now.” 

Sebastian grinned, patted Jim's leg and then went back to driving like crazy, heading South. Mycroft gave an annoyed little tut at the other end of the phone. "Moriarty, you seriously underestimate the amount I care for malnourished little druggies. I might have thrown you in prison, I might have killed you, depending on how much information you saw. However I have now finished with you, and finished with Magnussen as well. Please get out of Appledore if you're not already gone, it'll be swarming with various emergency services very quickly. Now if you don't mind I have a rather large number of important phone calls to make." And with that, the call disconnected. 

Jim chucked the phone out the window so they couldn’t be traced as easily. “Well bad news is I just lost you your apartment, the fancy car, and my education fund. But good news is he’s probably not going to have us killed or imprisoned. And neither of us will ever work for Mags again, I’m going to call this a win.” 

Sebastian dug into his jacket again and pulled out a passport which he flipped at Jim, "Your name is Rick Taylor, you're a single student from Exeter and you're running away from home because your father is a twat. I didn't know you'd be goddam shaved so it's an old picture. My name is Ben Traddock, don't fucking laugh it was the only name they had. I'm a lorry driver, you're hitching with me. Curl up and get some sleep, we'll be in France in a few hours." 

“You /have/ been busy, ‘Ben.’” Jim smirked at the other man. “My hair will grow back, don’t you worry.” Jim didn’t want to sleep. He felt like if he lost this—drive he had now then it might take him ages to get back on track. “Why were you there? I didn’t tell you to come after me. In fact I distinctly remembered telling you not to.” Jim was fucking pleased he had and that colored his voice a bit. 

"You told me not to, Mycroft told me not to." Sebastian shrugged, giving him a wide grin. He'd expected to come and find a Jim who was broken, empty, sobbing and possibly horrifically injured. And while he knew that Jim was currently flying high on adrenaline he was still very relieved to find that he was still capable of these feelings. "I figured if everyone wanted me away there must be something pretty interesting there. Also I wanted to shoot the bastard." 

Jim flinched, remembering the look of surprise on Magnussen’s face and the blood. He’d never seen anyone killed violently like that. “Well… thank you. I warned him about fucking with you. In the beginning. He should have listened.” Jim started digging through Sebastian’s things. “You don’t have anything to eat, do you?” 

"There's some chocolate in the bottom. I thought you might be ... " Sebastian's voice trailed off as Jim dug through the bag. There was also a variety of medical supplies, a thermo-blanket, bandages, sutures and morphine. He hadn't really know what to expect. "We can stop off at a service station if you need anything more. Now what the fuck was that about Appledore not existing and being destroyed and all in Mags's mind and shit. Got a bit lost there." 

Jim raised his eyebrows at the medical equipment, “I’m alright, just a bit bruised. He didn’t amputate anything.” He was only teasing. The morphine caught his eye though and his throat tightened at the reminder that he didn’t have any heroin. Jim wondered if they could stop off at a service station for that too. “Magnussen never had any proof of the things he was blackmailing people for. He didn’t need it. Take my case—I always thought he’d had a video or eye witness who saw me murder Carl. I thought it was suspicious that he never showed them to me but while I suspected he had no concrete information, all someone with Magnussen’s resources would need is to point the detectives in the right direction. For someone of Carl’s family’s influence they would have reopened a case, and followed the trail back to me. That whole killing revolved around them writing it off as an accident but as soon as anyone started asking questions it becomes apparent what really happened. But this wasn’t just me. Magnussen never had any proof of anything on anyone. All that information was just in his head and you blew that all over the floor.” 

"There's nothing physical at all?" Sebastian started to grin at the implications of what he'd just done. "So he doesn't have some list somewhere of all the bastards that owe me - and Mycroft wrote that all off when he hired me. Looks like the only person who has anything on us now is Mycroft Holmes and by the sounds of it he's got bigger problems to deal with right now." He gave a relieved sigh, pleased that the debt was no longer hanging over him. He had no idea what they'd do in France but at least they'd be a bit less visible. 

“Yeah,” Jim’s eyes dulled. “It was all for nothing. Mycroft’s scheme. If he’d wanted he could have sent anyone in to kill Magnussen or bring him in for interrogation. In the end everything I did was worth shit.” 

"Really?" Sebastian gave a laugh, which he somehow couldn't stop for a while. "You can't just /kill/ someone like Mags. Same reason they couldn't sort out the shite in Iraq by just sending someone in to kill Saddam Hussain. The fallout would be massive. It /will/ be massive. Mycroft will have a hell of a lot on his hands, which is why we need to disappear in case he decides that 'vengeful ex-porn worker' makes a convenient story and scape-goat. Mags was massive, hugely political." He gave Jim a sideways look, "In the underground, that'll be a hell of a thing to have on your resume." 

Jim laughed bitterly, “What? Put ‘fucked by CAM’ on my resume? Because that’s all I did. You were the one that broke in and pulled the trigger, I’d be tied up in the basement if you hadn’t shown up. I didn’t do anything.” 

"You're my boss, it counts as your kill." Sebastian gave a shrug, and then a smirk, "You've got a lot to learn about how the underworld works. You're the boss. I made the kill, but you organised the whole thing - got Mags out in the open at midnight with only one guard around him." He didn't want to think of Jim, naked and tied in the basement, and he still couldn't get over the shaved little head. 

Jim shrugged, not able to be very curious right now. This whole thing was a personal failure even if the results were as intended. The cost had been so much higher than it needed to be. It was like paying a million pounds for a one pound burger, sure you got your meal but the price was far too high to Jim personally. He’d meant it though, when he told Mags that he was willing to do anything for his freedom. “Can’t believe it’s over.” He said blankly, Jim thought the shock might be settling back in. 

Sebastian rooted around in the bag with one hand and tugged out a chocolate bar. "Eat, you're crashing. You've got a lot of crash to come. Just remember the bastards dead. Next time we get a hit on someone, I want you being the one in the cushy flat wearing a suit while I shoot the bastard, alright? You're not going through that kind of shit again. Fucking Mycroft, he uses people like objects you know, even his own damn brother." 

Jim had a sudden thought, “What are they all going to do? At the studio? I mean people like you and Wayland had lives outside of porn that you can go back to. Not everyone does though.” Jim bit the inside of his mouth as he remembered what Sherlock looked like curled up on the floor and miserable, Paul trying not to break down in the showers. Fucking hell. 

Sebastian shrugged, "Mags isn't the only porn director out there. There are others that are a damn sight better would love to swoop on them. Pretty little twinks like Paul and Paolo will get snapped up quick as anything." He shrugged at the thought of Sherlock. Maybe Mycroft would look after him, maybe not. "Darren will be fine as well, if you care. Like me he can work as a bouncer or something. The underground always has room for its own, and those lads all have good online reputations now, if they want to stay in porn." 

Jim still felt uneasy about it but he decided he’d keep an eye out for his own peace of mind. After he dealt with his own shit. Jesus. Those thoughts were just from attachments Jim had made to stay sane, they didn’t /mean/ anything. As long as Paul or Sherlock didn’t end up back on the streets because of shit that Jim pulled, it was okay. “What are we going to do now?” Jim hadn’t made any plans for “after” because he’d honestly doubted there /would/ be an after to this mess. But now that he was here… he wouldn’t mind having a bit of time to themselves. 

"What are we going to do?" Sebastian grinned, taking one hand off the wheel and wrapping it around Jim's shoulders, giving him a kiss on the shaven head as the jeep headed off down to France, "Whatever the fuck we want boss. Whatever the fucking hell we want."


End file.
